


The Cage

by tangentiallyTJ



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallyTJ/pseuds/tangentiallyTJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, Hal needs to be tormented, so I wrote this.</p>
<p>I don't own any part of Being Human, except the DVD's of course!<br/>Much thanks to Toby Whithouse for creating such an amazing world and complex characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Your Nightmare

“Hello Hal. Have a nice nap?”

She smirked at him through the sturdy bars of the cage. She’d been there for a while, reading a book and enjoying a great cup of tea while she waited for him to regain consciousness. Only when his eyes betrayed his awareness of his changed surroundings did she bother to speak. The concoction he’d drunk so quickly hours before tended to linger in the system; she’d developed it specifically for vampires and knew its properties well.

He remained quiet, wary, taking in the cage set securely in the great stones that made up the floor of—what was this place? The stones were worn smooth; there was a sense of age here, but not of decay. Light and air filtered in through barred windows set high in the chamber walls. Country smells, not city smells. Not seaside or mountain, but green growth smells—a woods. He hadn’t gone far, then. Wildflowers? Or was it her scent that hinted at dog roses?

He sat up slowly, intentionally casting the illusion that he was still groggy and unfocused. It gave him a chance to take a quick inventory. Yes, everything seemed to be in place, although his head hurt so badly that he was nearly seeing double. He carefully raised a hand to the back of his head and found the rather impressive lump, complete with broken skin and blood-matted hair. That explained the pain. He couldn’t remember precisely how the lump got there.

Hal Yorke never forgot anything. It had been a point of pride for centuries. If he couldn’t remember being struck on the head, he must have been impaired by something else at the time. He should reconnoiter. He looked at his bed, actually a pallet on the floor. It was clean except for the spots of his blood where his head had been. It was also completely nondescript, with no design or markings to tell him whose property it was.

He looked at himself and realized that he no longer wore his clothes. They had been replaced by a simple cotton shirt and trousers. That explained his niggling sense of discomfort—he preferred more elegant fabrics against his skin. His clothes, a pile of dust, and a stake were very likely in place to explain his sudden absence. He assumed that his companions’ clothes and similar piles of dust were in place to lend credence to the lie of his disappearance.

Hal looked at the woman who was looking with undisguised amusement at him. She held the answers to every question his aching brain scrambled to pull together. He would ask none of them, of course. Her clothing was as unremarkable as the fabric on his pallet, a simple outfit of soft browns in common fabrics of decent quality. Everything about this place and about her was ordinary in fact, except for the sturdy cage in which he sat and the nature of his captor. As much as she may try to disguise it, Hal knew she was extraordinary.

She sat in a rocking chair a few feet beyond his reach. Next to her was a side table on which she placed her book, with bookmark casually in place. A tea tray was already on the table and she poured herself another cup from the teapot that sat snugly in a crocheted cozy. Other than a brazier near a wall and water spigots close to that, there was nothing else in the chamber. Hal thought the sitting room furniture should look out of place, but she was so perfectly at ease that the chamber and cage felt at odds with her instead.

The woman moved with a grace that seemed completely unschooled, as if it were part of her being rather her training. Her delicate slender hands were nearly languorous as they poured tea and set the teapot back in place. She casually tucked an errant strand of dark hair behind one ear as she fixed her deep green eyes on him again.

“Tea? I brought you a cup.” She smiled, but there was no warmth in her smile. She played the role of hostess to a guest of questionable character.

Hal rose to his feet lithely but not as quickly as he could have. He measured his movements under her studious gaze. He could tell that she was sizing him up. He approached the bars nearest her.

“Does it contain whatever has led me to a fuzzy head and incomplete memory of recent events?” he asked with composure. A question designed to let her know of his awareness of his situation as well as to confirm his suspicions. A fair trade of knowledge, no points lost in their sparring match.

“It does not. In fact, you may drink from my cup if you like, and I will pour myself another.” She spoke evenly and remained as expressionless as he.

He arched one eyebrow and tilted his head slightly. She read the question and sipped from the cup herself before offering it to him. She had to take two steps toward the cage in order to place the cup and saucer into the hand he extended for it. Hal wasn’t sure why he reached out in the first place; it was a reflex response to her offer. He noticed that her hand was steady and that she made no attempt to avoid contact with him as she handed him the tea. She brushed against him lightly without a hint of fear. Apparently she believed that he wasn’t a threat to her. Did she realize what kind of creature she had in her cage?

She poured herself another cup and resumed her seat. Hal tasted the tea. It was very good, strong but not bitter. Fortifying. He stood near the bars and observed her as he sipped from the side of the cup that her lips hadn’t touched. Caution was a learned skill for Hal, but it was one he recognized as valuable.

The scent of dog roses most certainly came from her; perhaps she used rose water on her skin. He caught no scent of commercially-made lotions or salves, but he noted another smell under the roses, something musky and familiar. Werewolf. Not strong enough to offend his olfactory sensitivity, but enough to tantalize him with its earthy animalistic quality. She knows a werewolf. This could get very interesting and very dangerous.

“My name is Tessa.” She nodded her head as introduction.

Hal nodded his head in return. “You know my name already.”

“Hal Yorke. Or Lord Harry Yorke. Or Henry Yorke. You use several derivations,” she said quietly. There was no sense of boastfulness in her manner. In fact, Hal couldn’t draw any conclusions at all about what she was feeling. She showed only what she wanted him to see.

“You’ve researched me.”

“I have.”

“You’ve been planning my visit for some time.”

“I have.”

“You’ll tell me the reason for your interest in me at some point, I suppose,” he said casually, as if he were used to this type of conversation. At his age, there were very few new experiences left. He assumed that he was facing some sort of power maneuver or plan for revenge. He guessed revenge. He’d dealt with both.

“I don’t believe I should have to,” Tessa replied. “A man of your intelligence and experience can surely sort it out.”

He wrinkled his brow thoughtfully for a moment and gave her a look as if he were sizing her up. It was an act, of course. He’d already made his decision. “Revenge. You don’t seem the type to resort to devious machinations for the sake of power or status. You don’t appear to be driven by religious fervor. Revenge it is. Who did I kill, then?” Hal extended his empty cup and saucer for her.

 “My sister.” She rose from her chair gracefully and took it from him. Her fingers brushed along his hand as she did. He shivered slightly at her touch, but he enjoyed it as well. Exquisite. Petal-soft. He assumed there were thorns hidden somewhere.

“You know this to be true?” Perhaps he could convince her that she had chosen the wrong vampire. Perhaps he could convince her to come closer and stay within reach. Hal wondered if the key to his cage was on her person. He wanted to investigate further.

Tessa watched the thoughts form in his head. He was sadly predictable, but he was just a man, after all. She interrupted his musing with the next bit of information she planned to divulge.

“She told me. More tea? There’s enough for another cup if you like.”

“No, thank you. I assume you will offer me no stronger form of liquid refreshment during my stay here.” Hal leaned nonchalantly against the bars to affirm his lack of concern for her plans, whatever they may be.

“That would be off-point.” She resumed her seat and began rocking gently.

“Quite. Your sister told you that I killed her? So you can see ghosts.”

“Yes.”

“A rare gift.”

“Not for my sort.”

She picked up her book and resumed her reading. Hal felt as though he had been dismissed by her, so he ruefully returned to the pallet where he stretched out and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. He idly wondered what her sort was and why she stayed with him if she wasn’t going to engage him in any way.

 He supposed she was waiting for the werewolf, although she didn’t seem to be alert for anything or anyone in particular. She simply seemed to be enjoying her book. Soon, and much to his surprise, Hal grew drowsy. He fell asleep with the inevitable hunger gnawing at the edges of his self-control.

Hal jerked himself awake sometime later, gasping away the remnants of a startlingly vivid and explicit dream about Tessa. She had released him from the cage, begged his forgiveness, avowed her admiration for him, and offered herself for his usage as he pleased. He’d pleased himself greatly before he drained her dry. The dream didn’t disturb him, but the realization of what it meant broke through his subconscious and brought him sharply back to reality.

Tessa was a succubus. No human woman could affect him so strongly. Suddenly her casual touch during the exchange of teacups assumed an insidious and menacing significance. A succubus in league with a werewolf had to be a vampire’s worst nightmare. Tessa’s touch could turn him into her willing slave. He would be at her mercy, hopelessly enchanted by her as long as she stayed near him. She could toy with him as much as she chose.

She could order him to drink werewolf blood and he would, if he thought it would please her. All she had to do was make him want her enough. Or she could just bind him and leave him for the wolf to devour. The scenarios grew in Hal’s mind as he considered the implications of all that an intelligent, determined woman could do to him.

He’d looked for her immediately upon waking, but she was gone, along with the tea tray and book. The fire burning low in the brazier was his only company. When it turned to cinders and ash Hal was alone.

# #

A week isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. A pittance, really, when you stack it against the months and years at a time that Hal had lived without blood. To a vampire used to gorging himself at will, however, a week is a very long time to spend locked in a cage. To a vampire trapped by unseen enemies with unknown intentions a week without blood is a very, very long time.

The only good thing about the endless days and nights had been the waning of her influence as the bloodlust waxed. His hallucinations and nightmares returned to their usual horrifying structure, and Hal found strange comfort in the return of his old companions. They were less frightening than the future he imagined in the succubus’ grip.

Hal looked like hell when Tessa returned to the chamber. His skin was grey and slick with sweat, his hair a greasy mess, his clothes dirty and disarranged; his eyes glittered with insanity’s spark. He fought against tremors as he prowled the bars of the cage, watching her. He stank.

She lit the brazier and opened one of the spigots to fill a metal jug. The extra water splashed into a hollowed spot on the floor and drained away. She had a washbasin, soap and towel. Not exactly modern conveniences, but Lord Harry would know how to make the best of it. If he decided to bother at all—he may be past the point of caring already. She calmly set the jug of fresh drinking water and a metal glass within his reach. He didn’t attempt to reach her.

“You may be thirsty,” she said. “You may also want to wash.” She waved toward the towel and soap that sat waiting on her side table.

“I want your blood.”

“That would be unwise.”

“Was your sister a succubus? I don’t recall eating any succubi in recent years, although I suppose I could have overlooked one if I was in a rush for lunch.” Hal barely managed to keep the sneer in his voice and he couldn’t keep it from cracking in a place or two. He’d practiced that little speech, clung to it when his mind tried to dissolve into a screaming chaos of hunger. It didn’t have the desired effect on his jailer.

“No, her father was human. Mine was a demon. He seduced our mother—I understand that is typical behavior for the species.”

“You’re not my first succubus,” he spat at her, glaring from between the bars.

“You’re not my first vampire,” Tessa replied calmly. “I’ve studied your species since my sister told me the details of her death. I’ve studied you in particular as well. Actually, she helped with that. My sister. She followed you for quite some time, discreetly, in order to learn all she could about you. Your habits. Your—proclivities. Your weaknesses. Funny, she didn’t mention your strengths.” She filled the washbasin with hot water and set it near the cage. “Well, perhaps there were none to mention,” she murmured as she set the soap and towel next to the basin.

“Come close enough and I’ll show you my strengths,” Hal growled.

“No thank you,” Tessa replied as she sat in the rocker and opened a book. “You stink. I’ll just stay upwind.”

“Waiting for your werewolf friend? You reek of the wolf,” Hal managed another sneer before doubling over with vicious cramps. He could hear her steady heartbeat and the sluicing of her blood in her veins. He swore he could smell it, under the roses and the musky smell that aroused him.

“Tonight’s the full moon, by the way,” Tessa said. “I thought we’d spend it together.” She began reading.

Tessa quietly ignored the curses and vile threats the vampire hurled at her. When he threw the water jug at her she set her book aside. He lounged against the bars and laughed at her as water dripped from one side of her hair and the sleeve of her blouse. In response Tessa unbuttoned her blouse, removed it, and used the dry areas to dry her hair and the side of her rocking chair. She wore a black undershirt, much to Hal’s disappointment. 

Tessa hung her wet blouse over the handle of the door through which she’d entered the chamber. She pulled a pocketknife from her trousers pocket, and Hal stiffened as she approached the cage while opening a blade on the knife. Surely she didn’t think she could hurt him with such a small metal blade. What was she planning?

She saw him stiffen and grow wary. Fool. She wasn’t going to use the knife on him. She stopped out of his reach and made a small, expert incision in her wrist. Blood welled up and Hal went berserk.

Before the first drop hit the stone floor he’d manifested and was throwing himself against the bars to reach it. The rich, salty metallic tang flooded his nostrils; the glistening ruby drops overcame his vision until the whole world glowed red; the soft plop of thick liquid on stone enraged him as he fought to bend the bars or force himself through them. Tessa dripped blood around the perimeter of the cage with Hal following in a brutal, frenetic charade of affiliation; she held herself less than a foot from his reach as he screamed and howled for her blood.

When she’d reached her starting point she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped her wrist to stop the blood flow.

“Those bars are werewolf-tested,” she said as she held the cloth to her wrist.

“Do you suppose I’m not as strong as a wolf? Brainless bitch! You don’t know vampires as well as you think!” Hal concentrated his efforts on the door now, in the hope that the hinges or bolts would prove to be weaker than the welded joints of the bars themselves.

“Suit yourself,” Tessa said with a shrug. “I’ll just watch you beat yourself up, then.”

She turned her chair to face the cage and watched, amused, as Hal wore himself out trying to escape. As her blood dried it pulled on him less; he also exhausted himself in his futile war against the bars of his prison. Eventually he collapsed into a corner, defeated, bruised, and bloody.

“I told you the bars are werewolf-tested. You should be thankful they held,” she mused. “In fact, I’m certain you will be praying for them to hold before the night is out.”

Hal raised his eyes to her. He barely had the wherewithal to wonder what the hell she was prattling about. He sank into agonizing bleakness as the hunger gripped him and overwhelmed the pain of his self-inflicted injuries. He hardly noticed when Tessa began to move again.

She carried her rocking chair, side table, and the items she had brought with her out of the chamber and carefully locked and bolted the sturdy steel door when she re-entered. She banked the fire in the brazier and looked at the darkening sky through the barred window high on the wall. She approached Hal calmly and knelt next to him, gently running her fingers along his cheek where it rested between the bars. He felt the force of her contact and stirred, drawn to her against his will.

The succubus stood up and began to take off her clothes. He stared, agape and increasingly aroused as she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks. Her delicate, nimble fingers unfastened her trousers and pushed them down, exposing long, well-formed legs, red lace panties, and a neatly-trimmed triangle of black hair that showed through the thin fabric. She stepped out of her trousers, folded them, and set them on the floor next to her shoes. She pulled off her undershirt to reveal a red lace bra and high, firm breasts with a sumptuous weight to their curves.

Hal knew she was seducing him and assumed that she was preparing him to meet the werewolf. He didn’t care. He would give himself to her like a lamb to the butcher, if only she would let him. He would tie himself up and bare his neck for the werewolf’s jaws, if he could bury himself in her body first.

Tessa was unhurried in her movements and relaxed in her manner. She knew she was exciting the vampire; she intended to. Red was his color, not hers. She waited for a minute and let him ogle her before removing her bra and dropping it onto the pile of clothes. Finally she slid her panties down and stepped out of them, hooking them on a foot and dropping them onto her clothes. She stepped closer to the cage, her natural grace accentuating the sway of her hips as she approached the rapt vampire.

He stretched out a hand through the bars—he couldn’t stop himself. He yearned for her. She let his trembling fingers brush along the outer curves of her breasts. He knelt and reached again; she arched toward him slightly to let her hair tickle his fingertips. He moaned with a hunger beyond any he had ever felt: blood, sex and magic owned him. His eyes flashed black and his fangs unsheathed as his erection threatened to rip through his trousers. Overwhelmed by the cadence of his own blood pulsing at the base of his fangs and throbbing in his groin, he drove himself into the bars once again.

Finally Tessa spoke. “What do you get when a werewolf attacks a succubus?”

She smiled grimly. “Me.”

She turned around to reveal the scars across her lower back. Hal stared, entranced by her elegant motion and the curves of her body. The sharp slashes were all wrong, out of place on such a creature. She spoke again as she set her clothes in a far corner of the chamber.

“Are you sure you want to reach me? Perhaps you should test those bars while you can. After all, they need to keep the wolf from attacking you, and the wolf loves nothing more than a weakened, bloody vampire to snack on. I know. Your kind are delicious.”

She smiled at last, a genuine smile in fond recollection of very satisfying meals. It was genuinely cruel and Hal turned stone cold. She was right—he was weakened by his own hunger and his futile struggles against the cage. He was bloodied by his own uncontrollable behavior. He was very enticing to a werewolf and he had just spent all of his strength trying to destroy the only thing that could protect him from one.

Tessa watched the vampire process the change in his situation even as his arms continued to reach through the bars for her. The blood he fought so hard to reach could kill him. The body he wanted so desperately to claim for his own usage would soon become his great enemy. The bars he shook would shortly become his sanctuary. And yet, if she placed herself against them he would bury himself in her and die happy with a sip of her blood. Well, that was an intriguing idea. But no. She didn’t want him dead yet—he hadn’t suffered nearly enough—and she certainly didn’t want him happy.

As the first ripples of the wolf washed over the woman, Hal forced himself away from the bars and crawled to his pallet. He could only wait and hope.

The werewolf didn’t sleep. It worried at the cage all night, trying to find a way to get it open. The sturdy bars hummed from the force of its blows, but they neither broke nor bent. The door remained solidly in place. The werewolf even leapt on top of the cage and pawed at Hal, drooling on him in its eagerness to reach him. He flattened himself on the floor and stared into the beast’s blazing red eyes and gaping jaws as it snarled and snapped at him. He’d never seen a werewolf with red eyes. Must be the demon-born succubus peeking through.

His fear of the wolf only made the hunger worse. Blood would calm him, strengthen him, give him the courage and clarity to deal with the beast. There was no blood available but his own, and he’d already picked every flake of dried blood from his pallet and his hair and returned it to his body. He hadn’t been able to help himself—it had called to him and he’d scurried after it like a rat after cheese.

As each minute bit of blood dissolved on his tongue, Hal had wished for a rat or two or twenty. His typical fastidiousness disappeared as he craved squalor and the vermin that accompanied it. He’d survived on them before, during desperate times, and he’d be delighted to do so again. Sadly, no vermin had appeared to slake his thirst. His jailer was apparently very clean or very comprehensive in her understanding of his nature.

As dawn approached the werewolf leapt from its perch on top of the cage and stretched out on the floor, head on its paws, eyes intent on its prey. When the time came Tessa returned to her own form without a sound of protest. She stood, stretched languidly, and nodded at Hal as he approached the bars. His relief as seeing her human form was palpable.

“I see you survived the night,” she said calmly.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Hal replied with as much control as he could muster. “I’ll be happy to give you that kiss you want, now that your whiskers are gone.”

She chuckled. “My interest in you left with my whiskers. Pity, really. If you smelled a bit better I could eat you right up, just as you are.”

“I could let you, just as you are,” he nearly purred in response as he leered at her naked form. “You’re a bit—whiffy—yourself this morning, darling. Perhaps we should call it even and proceed from there.”

“Perhaps I should get breakfast and a nap instead,” Tessa said as she dressed. “Food, sleep, a hot bath…mmm, yes. Not quite as satisfying as fresh vampire meat, but it will do.”

She pulled on her shoes and left the chamber. Hal was alone again. Two weeks this time.

# #

The first few days were entertaining. His crazed brain dreamed of Tessa in both forms, vividly. He didn’t mind indulging in sex fantasies with a beautiful woman, but bestiality had never interested Hal. Oddly enough, sex with a werewolf was uniquely gratifying. Her tail curled nicely out of the way, her fur gave him something to grip, and her howls of delight were—stimulating. In his fantasy Hal considered his survival of the experience a sign of his ability to perform adequately, even for a female of a species quite foreign from his own. It rather soothed his ego.

His fantasies of Tessa the woman were equally delightful because they included everything Hal most enjoyed about women, including her eagerness to savour his ‘fresh vampire meat’ so to speak. They ended, as always, with him drinking her blood. It burned a bit, but was so rich and spicy that he indulged himself fully. He didn’t devour her, however. He treasured her body and drank with a connoisseur’s delicate touch.

By the time Tessa’s influence waned Hal’s groin was a sticky mess that spoke worlds. He was blood-starved, dehydrated, and yet she created a potent physical response, an undeniable sign of her power. In his few lucid moments Hal mourned the waste of precious liquid from his system and wished he’d drunk the water she’d offered. He felt himself drying on the bone and knew the withdrawal was full-blown.

# #

He was curled into a filthy ball on his wretched pallet when she returned, but he was so far removed from the world that he didn’t notice until she’d replaced her chair and table, carried in her accessories for the day, and started a fire in the brazier. It took that long for the scent of her blood to reach him.

Tessa heard the thud of his body against the bars and turned from the brazier to see the vampire straining, fangs snapping and black eyes blazing. Just the reaction she expected. She put the kettle on to boil.

“I bleed as a woman when the moon is dark and prowl as a wolf when it is full,” she said calmly. “You got to enjoy my company during the one activity. I thought it only fair that you should enjoy my company during the other.”

Hal fought through the madness of his thirst to focus on her words. He would follow them, a tenuous thread to draw him back to reality. If this world around him was actual reality. He no longer knew. Still, it was a distraction.

“How generous of you,” he croaked through cracked lips. He felt a drop of moisture and his tongue flicked instinctively to catch it. Blood. His lip must have split. It happened in the beginning, if he wasn’t allowed to rehydrate.

Tessa brought the metal water jug and glass to the cage. She halted just out of reach.

“Shall I pour you a glass? You look a bit shaky.”

“Please.”

She poured a glass of water and offered it to him. He began to reach for it, then drew his hand back through the bars.

“If you could just set it on the floor, I’ll get it presently.” Every fiber of his being cried out for liquid, but he was coherent enough to remember the peril in her touch.

Tessa smiled and set the glass on the floor, just within his reach. She set the water jug next to the glass and returned to the brazier. Hal drank the water as she went about her business. He felt it flow through him like thin cold blood, filling space but not quenching his thirst. He could speak clearly at least, and his brain was better able to function. He watched her prepare a washbasin of hot water.

Tessa brought the washbasin to the cage, set it in front of the vampire, and set a washcloth, soap, and towel next to it. She didn’t hesitate about getting close to the vampire; it was part of her plan to tempt him with her blood and her nearness. He had to fight the urge to leap at her and risk coming under her spell and dying from her toxic blood. She also set a change of clothes on the floor.

“I’ll replace the water when it gets dirty,” she said. “I have plenty.”

Tessa quietly began sweeping the stone floor of the chamber surrounding Hal’s cage. She avoided the corner he’d used as a toilet during his first few days—she hadn’t given him a slop bucket so he’d picked a spot and aimed beyond the bars as best he could. He’d pushed his dried feces beyond the cage with a bit of blanket torn from his pallet, and Tessa swept those up as she went, which was easy enough.

Tessa the werewolf had discovered his toilet and pissed on it to mark over his scent with her own. Hal supposed he should be glad the wolf hadn’t just pissed on him; she’d certainly treated him as her territory. That area had the most appalling smell now. A corner of Hal’s mind wondered if she wanted to keep it that way, another torture for her vampire captive. Another reminder of his helplessness.

The lure of hot water was too much for Hal to resist, and he peeled his filthy clothes off with a relieved sigh and began to wash. He couldn’t get completely warm without fresh blood, but the heated water soaked into his tight muscles and helped, some. He wished he could just lie in a bath of steaming hot water. He wished he could bathe in hot blood. Specifically hers. The thought didn’t help his mood.

Tessa didn’t seem to be paying any attention, but she put aside her broom and brought a second washbasin of hot water to the cage before he could ask for it. Hal didn’t bother to cover himself at her approach because he had nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, she was very likely the one who undressed and redressed him while he was unconscious.

Tessa dumped the dirty water under the spigots and rinsed the basin. Apparently she had a modern plumbing system beyond the chamber. She filled the basin with hot water and began the cycle again without comment.

The vampire lavished hot water over himself beyond what was strictly necessary for cleanliness’ sake, but Tessa supposed it was because he was naturally cold-natured and enjoyed the warmth. She didn’t mind fetching more hot water for him. Each trip added a bit more temptation and she noted his struggle with joy.

Finally he was clean, dry, and clothed again. Pity about the clothed part; Tessa’s sister had commented on his fine physical features as well as his abilities as a lover. At least Hal had given her sister a little fun before tearing out her throat, and he’d given Tessa a little fun more recently. The vampire didn’t need to know that his dreams with Tessa were very vivid to her as well. He’d provided her with some delightful, and unexpected, naptime moments. Apparently the wolf had made an impression on him.

“The mat and blanket with which you have been sleeping will fit between the bars,” Tessa said as she approached the cage again. “I have fresh supplies.” She waved at a bundle of bedding.

Tessa finished sweeping the chamber while the vampire shakily removed his filthy bedding from the cage. She could tell that he was barely keeping himself together and fighting to remain coherent. Tessa had heard his screams and rants as they filtered through the chamber windows from time to time. She’d heard more than she wanted as he raged and threatened. Her sister had prepared her for Yorke’s cruelty, but the breadth of his existence and the range of his monstrosity was beyond what her reason could grasp. Tessa had decided that any torture she devised would be a wisp of breath compared to what he had done to others.

She offered him the broom. “I understand that you prefer a tidy exterior in which to encase your perversity,” she said coolly.

“Your research is impressive,” Hal replied. “I wonder why you bother to clean me up, however. Are we expecting visitors?”

“No. I just prefer to encase my perversities in a tidy exterior also.”

Tessa took a washbasin of soapy water and a scrub brush and cleaned the stone floor in the area she’d formerly avoided. She dumped the dirty water and removed Hal’s filthy linens and clothes. She brought him one more basin of clean water in which to wash as she swept up the dirt he’d shoved through the cage bars and took it to the dustbin she’d brought in for the day. She brought his clean bedding and brewed tea while he arranged his pallet.

When Tessa turned back to the cage the vampire was curled into a trembling ball on the pallet again, panting against his eviscerating bloodlust. She brought over the tea tray and poured herself a cup. This was more interesting than her book. She rocked gently and sipped her tea as she watched him suffer. One corner of her mouth turned up in a satisfied smile. She didn’t even need to cut herself this time in order to make it worse for him.

Eventually the tremors passed and the vampire turned onto his back and lay still as a corpse. Which technically, he was, she supposed. He stared through the cage into nothing with sparking black eyes, and his fanged mouth remained open for long moments at a time. Tessa turned to her book for more interesting company. She was a voracious reader.

“Hello, darling. Are you still here?” Hal rose smoothly from the pallet and approached the bars. He took a deep breath. “Still bleeding. You minx, why must you tempt me so? Do you need to cleanse yourself yet? Would you like assistance?” He licked his lips with a wicked grin. His meaning was crystal clear.

“And give you the chance to die happy? I think not.” Tessa put aside her book. “I was just about to make some more tea. Join me?”

“I don’t want tea, I want your blood, you stupid bitch!” He shook the bars as he yelled at her.

Tessa responded by walking to within an arm’s length of the cage, pulling out her pocketknife, and poking a tiny hole in the index finger of her left hand. A bead of blood welled up. Hal stared, transfixed, as she held out her finger to him. He reached out greedily until they nearly touched, then froze. It was the perfect temptation. He could touch her blood just enough to find out for sure if it was toxic for him. It didn’t smell like werewolf blood, and the slim possibility that he could safely ingest it tormented him. One drop on his finger meant physical contact with the succubus. One drop on his tongue would unleash a raging thirst that already threatened to consume him. Toxic or not, there was death in her blood. Avoidance was his only safe option.

He touched her finger tentatively with his own. Her blood burned but didn’t destroy his skin. He brought it to his nose and sniffed delicately, then deeply. The wolf was there, nearly hidden in the scent of humanity and…magic? Evil? Does evil have a scent? Demon blood. Was there such a thing? Hal had never actually drunk from a demon-born creature. Not that he knew of, at any rate. With his history it was possible.

His tongue flicked out and swept the drop of blood from his finger, and the exquisite taste exploded through his being, followed by an explosion of fire that left him breathless and teary-eyed. Toxic. Most definitely toxic. And the most potent, delectable blood he’d ever experienced. He would happily burst into flames for the sake of another taste, but the succubus had already moved out of reach. She was fixing a pot of tea.

He raged and threatened for her to return to him. Never in his long life had Hal known hunger of this magnitude—it made him volatile, delirious, and mad. He climbed the cage and hung from the bars overhead, shaking them with his whole body in futile attempts to find a weakness in the structure. He threw himself against the bars repeatedly. He wheedled and demanded; he flaunted himself at her, using all of his seductive power and promises of pleasure to draw her near—promises he clearly _could_ fulfill and that he desperately _needed_ to fulfill.

“Bring yourself to me, woman! I will show you ecstasy like you have never known. I will make you forget everything but your own pleasure. Bring yourself to me!” He commanded her as he shook the cage to get her attention, as if his rich, imperious voice and gorgeously-appointed body weren’t enough.

At last Tessa put aside her book and tea and approached him. He grabbed her shoulders to drag her against the bars but she set a hand on his chest to hold herself away from his fangs.

“You’re not playing nice,” she chastised him.

“I’m not nice. If I release you, will you remove your clothes? Or must I do that for myself?” His hands were already bunching in her shirt, ready to tear it off her. He froze as he felt her fingers brush the length of his erection.

Tessa smiled that crooked little triumphant smile that she knew told the vampire he was trapped, once again, in her machinations. She calmly stroked his erection once, twice, as his eyes closed and he pressed against her. His hands fell away from her as she knelt. Tessa nipped the inside of her bottom lip and caught a drop of her own blood on her tongue before licking the tip of the vampire’s cock. He lunged into her mouth and then leaped back, hissing in pain.

“Sweet dreams, Lord Harry,” Tessa said as she rose to her feet. She picked up her book and tea tray and left.

# #

Four days. At least four days, and probably more, of dreams that left him writhing in disgust. Hal Yorke didn’t hesitate at violence or wickedness, but the dreams she drug him through drove him to tears of humiliation. The succubus owned him and he groveled for scraps of her affection as so many lesser vampires had groveled for his. He bared himself and hurt himself for the sake of her kisses. He gave himself to lesser men while she watched and smiled. He serviced her and went unfulfilled. And when finally, finally, she allowed him access to her body she rode him into the ground before transforming into the wolf and devouring him.

Where before his groin had been a sticky mess, this time it was dry—as dry as his hope of surviving her torment. After four days of non-stop hallucinations of blood and fire chased by dreams of intense shame and frustration, he woke from the horror of being eaten alive to find himself in the midst of climaxing with his hand. He couldn’t stop, even as he felt tears leak from the corners of his eyes at the realization of what she’d brought him to. Even as he heard the sound of water running from a spigot and smelled her scent. He was a slave to the blood and now he was a slave to her, no longer in control of his own body in any sense. His degradation was complete.

Tessa had interrupted the vampire’s dream on purpose by rousing from her own nap in the room just across the wall and quickly entering his chamber. She brought the water jug and glass to the cage and set them on the floor. She returned with a basin of hot water and the things with which he could wash himself. The vampire lay on his back on the pallet, tears slipping from his closed eyes, hands covering his softening penis. His body was stiff with embarrassment and hunger. She knew he wanted her to leave almost as desperately as he craved her touch and her blood. She would make sure that none of his three wishes was fulfilled. She made tea.

Hal heaved himself off the pallet and stumbled to the bars to wash. He was cowed. He didn’t raise his eyes beyond the floor immediately in front of him. He heard the soft creak of the rocker and knew that she was watching him and sipping her tea. The hostess studying her questionable guest. The jailer studying her battered prisoner. The master contemplating her slave.

He readjusted his clothes and slumped against the bars, wearily drinking some water. “What will you do with me?” He directed the question at the floor near her feet.

“I don’t know,” Tessa answered. “I’ve never had a toy quite like you. I may never tire of you.”

Hal shuddered. “You don’t intend to kill me?”

“Eventually.”

“When I’m no longer—entertaining enough?”

“No, I was thinking that those bars won’t last forever. Eventually the wolf will find a way in.”

He shuddered again as he realized what she meant. He could be in the cage for months, years, decades. Tears slid down his face as he curled into himself and rested his head on his knees. He was so tired, so hungry. He ached. The monster screaming through his body was almost as devastating as the monster sipping her tea.

“Would you like to wash your hair?”

It was a simple enough question, but Hal couldn’t find a way to answer it. There must be an ulterior motive to her offer. What was her plan? He couldn’t think.

“I only ask because I think I’ve found a way. An empty basin inside the cage for you to lean over, a full basin outside. The glass for you to dip water from and pour it over your head. It will be a bit messy, but I’d imagine at your age you’ve dealt with worse setups.” Tessa looked at him quizzically. She could almost see the cogs stumbling around in his brain, trying to mesh into coherent thought. He was looking for the manipulation. There was none. That was the trick behind her offer.

He decided it was a ploy for her to touch him again. “You would assist me?”

“Not unless you’re unable to perform such a simple task for yourself. I’ll get shampoo and a towel.”

 Tessa returned shortly with a towel and an unmarked bottle. “I make most of my own products,” she said as she set them by the cage.

Hal opened the bottle to find a thick liquid with a light soapy smell. No perfumes. The succubus brought the empty basin and metal drinking glass, which she set within reach so Hal could bring them into the cage for himself. She drew a basin of hot water and set it against the bars, then returned to her rocker and picked up her book.

He was strengthened by the thought of having even this small bit of independence. He steadied himself against the weakness and gnawing hunger that threatened to send him into another rant, removed his shirt, knelt over the empty basin, and washed his hair. He used the water sparingly, an old habit. When he was finished Hal sat back and dried his hair; it was overgrown and a tangled mess, but it felt much better. He looked up to see the woman, Tessa, bringing a cup of tea and a wide-toothed comb to the cage. She set them both down and returned to her book, allowing Hal to reach for them at his own discretion.

Hal combed his hair and sipped his tea. He remembered to pull his shirt on when a cold chill ran down his spine. The hot water for his hair and hot tea were mercies. He wondered what they would cost him.

“You’re no longer bleeding,” he said with a veneer of calmness.

“No, it doesn’t last long. A day or two. The wolf seems to have changed my internal workings in that regard.” Tessa didn’t mind conversation. She’d let Hal lead the way for a bit and see where he took it.

“How long have you been a werewolf?”

“This was my 23rd transformation,” she said. “Two-year anniversary the next time. I should bake a cake,” she added wryly.

“How long has your—has your sister been dead?” Hal was halfway into the question before he realized that it might be a sore subject.

“Seven years. Her door came nearly three years ago.”

“You were attacked after her death.”

“I waited. She was opposed to the idea.” Tessa sent the comment into the room and waited for his reaction. It was a slow-dawning combination of shock and horror.

“You— _chose_ —to become a werewolf?”

“All for you, Lord Harry.” She toasted him with her teacup. “You should be flattered.”

Her staggering resolve to seek the most effective revenge possible left Hal speechless for several minutes as he considered the ramifications. Finally he spoke.

“It won’t work, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The hunger. It wanes, eventually. It becomes manageable. I'll be able to control it, and then I will no longer be entertaining for you. It may take a few months, but it will happen. It always does.”

Hal wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove by telling her the truth about his bloodlust. Maybe he just wanted to let her know that she wasn’t as clever as she believed herself to be. Except that she was.

“Oh, that. Yes. You’ve done this before. Withdrawal. It seems to hinge on avoiding contact with blood and people.” She nodded thoughtfully. “It occurred to me that a glass of fresh blood every month or so would keep you from reaching the point where you _could_ control it.”

Every month or so? He’d been here nearly a month! Was she telling him that he’d get blood soon? The hunger roared through him with a fierceness that took his breath away. Fresh blood. Soon. Blood. Soon. Blood. Sweet, warm, rich blood. His hazel eyes blazed black and his fangs dropped at her mention of the words ‘fresh blood.’ He rose gracefully to his feet.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention,” he drawled. “Have you a gift for me? Can I expect one soon?”

“Perhaps,” Tessa said as she approached the cage. “First things first, however. We need to remove your wash water.”

Hal moved quickly to hand her the towel, comb and shampoo, and scooped the dirty water back into the washbasin on the exterior of the cage. He set the empty basin by the full one and watched eagerly as she took them both to the spigots and washed them out. When the woman, Tessa, returned to his cage Hal handed her his empty cup and saucer.

Tessa smiled as she casually brushed against his skin for the second time in just a few minutes. The thought of blood had made him careless. She gathered up the things she needed to take with her and turned to him.

“I’ll be back shortly.” She left.

# #

For 19 hours. More or less. Based on the shifting position of light coming through the windows and the endless seconds he counted while waiting. He counted to stay awake because he feared the dreams more than he feared the relentless hunger. Better the madness you know than the madness you don’t.

When Hal finally collapsed into sleep, his dreams were gentle. The succubus took him to a great, soft bed and they coupled with equal passion. There was no blood. There were no fangs or fur. There was just them, man and woman. It was the greatest falsehood of his existence, and the intensity with which he wanted it to be true hurt worse than any torment she’d provided.

He was pacing the cage and screaming for her when the succubus returned with a metal drinking glass of warm blood. Hal froze and watched her carry it into the chamber and set it on the floor just beyond the bars of his cage. She left immediately. He took a deep breath. Human. Not hers. Fresh. Just drawn. He tried to approach carefully but he simply couldn’t.

He lunged at the bars and caught the glass as if it was escaping prey. He gulped down the blood, cradling the glass in both hands because he was so shaky that he feared he would drop it. He licked the empty glass and used his fingers to swipe the remnants of blood from inside. Over and over Hal ran his fingers along the metal and sucked the blood from them until he could no longer taste or smell it. He threw the glass across the room with a frustrated cry as he felt the blood dissipate through his system. The euphoria was already leaving.

“Woman!” he roared. “Bring me more blood! Woman! Bring me more blood, you foul bitch!” He pounded against the bars and roared again. His roars became rants and then abject begging as the hunger gripped him with fresh strength and the vicious cycle of withdrawal began anew.

Just in time to face the werewolf.

 


	2. Captives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mind and body devise the most brilliant torments.

Six months.

A jug of water a few times each month. A bath of sorts at least once a month. The lure of her blood. Clean clothes and linens when the moon waned. A glass of blood when it was nearly full. The werewolf. The promise of her body when she chose. The dreams that followed. Hal could no longer tell the difference between dreams, hallucinations, and reality. Only the touchstones of the routine she established gave him a semblance of sanity. Water. Wash. Clothes. Blood. Dreams. Wolf.

Tessa was tiring of her experiment. She’d thought to learn just how long a vampire could go without proper food and with very limited blood. Her vampire was growing thin and wan, but he still had the strength to throw himself against the bars of his cage and he still had the mental alertness to avoid the werewolf.

He told her that vampires can’t die from lack of food and she decided to believe him. He told her that he’d never heard of a vampire dying for lack of fresh blood, although he believed they could become dormant and assume a sort of hibernation when necessary. He didn’t know how long it would take for that to occur, as he’d known vampires to go decades without blood. They’d had food for sustenance, but he couldn’t say how much that mattered.

He told her that blood loss was a challenge for vampires, and she’d learned enough about the species to know it was true. But vampires were self-healing so it took a very serious injury to cause much loss of blood. Any blood he lost during his bruising battles with the cage was replenished by his monthly medicinal draught, although he healed more slowly now. She noted the subtle signs that her vampire was weakening.

Tessa’s succubus enjoyed some of her naptime escapades with Hal; some of them were horrifying, even for a creature born with evil in her blood. Her werewolf resented being locked in with inaccessible food month after month. As long as Hal was in the cage she couldn’t bring in another vampire to play with. Or could she?

# #

Hal became vaguely aware that he was babbling about—or at—a family he’d killed and eaten decades earlier. He roused himself as a new scent tickled his nostrils. Blood. Vampire blood. Not his. There was another vampire here. He focused his gaze on the perceived reality of his cage—he was alone. He shook the fuzz from his brain and looked beyond the bars, forcing his senses into a semblance of their former acuity. He had to find the vampire, to assess the threat.

There was no threat. The vampire, a stocky fellow with questionable personal hygiene, was neatly bound and gagged, or trussed like a stuffed goose being prepared for the oven. As the thought meandered into Hal’s head he nodded to himself. Of course. The full moon was close. The werewolf might not go hungry this month. The relief that flooded his tattered mind also buckled his knees, and Hal sank against the bars. He wouldn’t be the focus of attention this time. Tessa was giving him rest from the terrifying hours of the creature’s onslaught. Why?

Another thought wandered into Hal’s head. The vampire was healthy and strong. Maybe Tessa planned a new form of entertainment—vampire against vampire in the cage. Hal would almost certainly lose. The werewolf would have the winner for a snack. His torment would be over soon. Sweet oblivion was pending.

Hal turned his attention back to his tied-up fellow, who was currently sitting against a chamber wall. A chain ran from the metal collar around his neck to the barred window high in the wall above him. It was a sturdy, albeit very likely improvised, type of restraint. Hal had used similar methods when travelling with werewolves. Needs must.

The fellow watched Hal with undisguised loathing and a healthy dose of fear. Not because Hal was any threat to him—the poor fellow very likely assumed that he was looking at his own future. Hal doubted that was Tessa’s plan. He was her special project, after all.

Hal found himself losing interest in the other vampire as the raging hunger for blood consumed him again. Blood. The moon. The succubus. The wolf. These were his world. Evening approached.

Tessa arrived for their pre-werewolf tea. Only two cups—the new man would be excluded. Hal drew himself up and accepted her proffered cup and saucer with a nearly-steady hand.

“Thank you, my dear. You look lovely this evening,” he said formally. “Have you made plans? Will I be joining you?”

“I hope for a round of exercise followed by a late supper,” Tessa replied with an ironic lift of an eyebrow. She added a brief twitch of a smile. “I’m not sure you would be interested in joining me. My menu is limited and very likely not to your taste.” She cast a long look at her new captive, who stared back at her with increasing horror.

“Not sharing, then? Well, I’ll just make do with tea.”

“Do you want me to share?” Tessa turned her studious gaze on Hal. “Would you like a drink before the moon rises?”

“That is forbidden.” He forced the words out quickly, in order to block the ones he wanted to scream. _Yes! Yes, god yes!_

“Still.” She took a sip and turned her gaze back to their captive. “He appears to have enough—substance—about him to satisfy us both.”

“You underestimate me if you think one trussed-up vampire will slake my thirst,” Hal said grimly.

“Of course. My apologies. I have no idea what drinking the blood of another vampire might do to you.” It wasn’t the first time she’d admitted a deficit in her research. He wondered if her offer was merely another experiment.

“It will fill my cells while providing brief respite. The life has already been drawn from it, unless he’s fed very recently.” Hal couldn’t help the slightly hopeful, questioning note at the end of his sentence. It was a forlorn hope, but he’d become expert at grasping at straws.

“He’d just drained a victim when I came across him,” Tessa said. “He was sluggish and easy to catch. Of course, it only took a touch to interest him. And a knock on the head to make him willing.” She smiled at the ease with which her succubus nature rendered men her slaves. Human, vampire, werewolf, it didn’t matter. Sex was sex. She even affected women who were so inclined.

Hal set down his cup and saucer with a clatter and leaped to his feet. “Bring him to me.” His voice was imperious but his eyes pled with her.

“I want him alive at moonrise. I like to play with my food,” she cautioned.

“BRING HIM TO ME!” Hal stood rigidly, hands white-knuckled around the bars. His eyes blazed black and fangs flashed into view.

Tessa set aside her tea and went to their terrified victim, unhooked the chain from his collar, and untied his hands. He calmed with her first touch and became increasingly mesmerized with each additional brush of her fingers. She stroked the vampire’s face and murmured soft promises as she tied one arm firmly alongside his body while leaving the other free. She grasped his free hand in both of her own in order to pull him toward the cage.  

Tessa dropped the vampire’s arm and Hal caught it before it reached the stone floor. He dragged it through the bars and sank his fangs into the wrist, warm from her touch and the fresh blood that coursed through the victim’s system. There were fragments of life in it still.

Tessa sat absently stroking their prisoner’s face to keep him transfixed on her while Hal drank. She watched Hal’s belly extend as he gorged himself, gulping down the blood as quickly as he could. When she believed he’d nearly drained their prisoner, she reached out to her vampire and smoothed his brow with a gentle pass of her fingers.

“Hal. You must release him now,” she murmured. “Hal. Look at me. Stop now. You are killing my dinner before his time.”

She cupped her hand under Hal’s chin and forced him up and away from the blood, then quickly pulled the vampire beyond his reach. Hal remained enthralled, drunk by blood and by her, as she moved their victim back to his original spot under the window. There was no longer any need to chain him in place; he was too weakened from blood loss.

Tessa stretched and shook herself. The moon was calling. It was time to prepare. She removed everything from the chamber as always, except for a sturdy cloth bag. She draped the bag over the new vampire’s head, not to scare him but to cover his eyes as she undressed. Only Hal was allowed to see her naked.

Hal watched her with increasing interest as she removed her clothes for him again. As the new blood diffused through his system his renewed vigor made itself apparent, and he reached for her even as he continued to suck traces of blood from his lips and teeth. When she was down to just her underwear Tessa brought herself to him. His fingers brushed her skin as she turned her back and allowed him to unhook her bra and slide the straps off her shoulders. She turned around and his hands fondled her breasts openly as he cupped them, brushing aside the bra without a thought.

He would pay for this later, in dreams and nightmares he couldn’t fathom. He didn’t care. She’d never allowed this much contact.

Her heartbeat quickened and her nipples hardened; she enjoyed his touch. Hal finally trailed his fingers down her ribs and stomach to the red lace panties. Always the red lace for him. Red was his color. He knelt as he drew them down, following them to the floor with hands skimming the lean curves of her legs.

His hands caressed their way up her legs again, brushing the back of her knees as she stepped imperceptibly closer. His trembling fingers traced an intricate staccato pattern along her inner thighs as he inhaled her scent—roses, wolf, arousal.

He reached the triangle of hair and the heat that radiated from her, and he closed his eyes as his fingers pushed into the heat and found the slick dewy flesh beneath the soft shield of curls. His already-throbbing erection leaped and his fangs pulsed in response. She stepped back.

“That’s enough,” Tessa said as she carried her clothes to the corner.

She’d teased him enough to insure a wealth of dreams and she’d allowed him to tease her as well. She was becoming captive as well as captor. The succubus’ enchantment wasn’t supposed to work both ways, but then, the victims weren’t supposed to live this long. Of course Hal wasn’t truly the succubus’ victim, because they had never, and would never, consummate their relationship. Doing so would end his dreams, and the dreams were part of his torment.

Tessa had killed a few lovers before she’d decided that the sex wasn’t worth the guilt; she’d even killed the werewolf who infected her. Her dreams with Hal constituted the longest intimate ‘relationship’ she’d ever known.  

Secure in his cage, fortified with blood and his prior knowledge of what a werewolf could do to a victim, Hal thought he was prepared for the full moon. Until the werewolf discovered the meal Tessa had left for it. It scented the fresh blood immediately and pounced on the quaking, begging vampire with a triumphant growl. Hal wanted to look away, to hide under his pallet, but there was blood. So much blood. How could he have left so much blood? It splattered across the stones as the werewolf tore pieces off its victim. It dripped and pooled under the dismembered, disemboweled creature. Prey. Werewolf prey. Hal’s prey.

He wanted the blood for himself, so much so that he raged against the bars and fought to be free of them. His curses drowned the sound of snapping bone and rending flesh; they pierced through the crunch of gristle being ground between giant teeth and the soggy gulp of muscle and organ being swallowed. The werewolf’s eyes glowed red as it paused, entrails dangling from its jaws, to consider him. Hal was deemed harmless and the wolf continued its feast.

Eventually the vampire was gone and its blood licked clean from the floor. The only evidence of the slaughter was scraps of rag and rope, an empty metal collar, and a blood-smeared werewolf. Hal slumped against the bars, exhausted from his fruitless attempts to join the wolf in its kill.

But as his enemy fixed its red eyes on him again Hal tensed; he stumbled back into the safety of his cage as the wolf leaped. Apparently a single victim couldn’t satisfy the werewolf’s hunger any more than it could slake a vampire’s thirst. Hal had bloodied himself in his struggle, which he now realized was a mistake. The werewolf smelled his blood and began to prowl the cage, searching for an entry.

Previously Hal had only imagined what would happen to him when the werewolf reached him. Now he knew for sure and saw himself clearly as the werewolf’s next victim. _His_ body torn and broken, _his_ entrails ripped and gobbled, _his_ blood licked from the cold stone floor. The truth was worse than his previous experience and his nightmares. Tessa had done him no favors by bringing them a shared meal.

Eventually the werewolf tired and flopped against the cage to groom itself and to rest. After a few swipes of claws through fur it stretched out on its side, back against the bars, and went to sleep. Hal wanted to sleep too, but he couldn’t. There was blood on the werewolf. Blood within his reach.

He trembled with need and excitement as he crept closer to the sleeping beast. Vampires can be very quiet, but he knew he wasn’t in top form. Extra caution needed. Impossible to apply. Blood too close. His fingertips grazed its back. The fur felt exactly as he expected it to—soft, thick, with a coarse outer layer. His dreams were frighteningly accurate. He found bits of drying gore and blood and carefully extricated them from the fur.

As he popped each gob and flake of blood into his mouth, Hal wondered if it would be his last. The wolf was quick. He didn’t care. He continued cautiously grooming the werewolf, Tessa, with the lightest touch of his fingers, searching for the treasures his senses told him were there. He worked his way toward her muzzle slowly, exerting every bit of control he could muster to keep from stretching out alongside her and licking the blood from her head where it rested against the bars.

Dawn approached. He wasn’t finished. Hal wanted the night to stretch until he’d cleaned all the blood he could reach from her fur. He wanted the werewolf to linger under his touch. Until she stirred. He froze, his fingers caught in her fur just below her ear. Her eyes opened as she lifted her head slightly and looked at him. He stared into her deep green eyes, not moving, not breathing, not blinking. She set her head down again and Hal slowly withdrew his fingers.  

He waited for her to go back to sleep so he could safely move beyond her reach. Or continue searching her body for blood. The werewolf must have known what he was thinking because she stretched, turned onto her other side, and extended an arm through the bars into the cage. Her front paw, or hand, rested lazily in his lap. Her claws snagged the fabric of his trousers until she flexed slightly to release them. She poked her muzzle between the bars and lifted her chin like a dog asking to be scratched.

The underside of her muzzle and front of her neck were covered in drying blood. Hal’s hand was stroking her blood-matted fur before his mind had a chance to warn him against it. It wouldn’t have made a difference; he was trapped anyway.

He curled his fingers into her fur and scratched, releasing bits of blood as he went. She seemed to enjoy it so he scratched harder, putting both hands to use as he worked his way down her muzzle and neck. He watched blood and loose hair fall to the floor and swallowed his drool. No need to give Tessa any ideas about tasty snacks, and one drooling beast at a time was plenty anyway.

After a few minutes she withdrew her muzzle, rolled away from the cage, sneezed, and got to her feet. Tessa moved to a spot close to her clothes and sat down to wait for her transformation back to human form. Her humanity was returning; Hal wasn’t sure it hadn’t already done so. He sucked the blood from his fingers and swept it from the floor as she transformed and dressed.

“Have a good day, Hal,” Tessa said as she left.

He waited to hear the lock click into place before lowering his head to lick the floor.    

# #

Hal felt fuller than he had in a long time, and he was tired. He’d cleaned up the blood where Tessa had lain; there was very likely blood still within his reach, but he was more interested in sleep. He told himself that the extra excitement of the previous night had worn him out. He told himself that Tessa always left him alone for a few days following the full moon, so he would have plenty of time to search out every fleck of dried blood before she returned to clean the chamber. He didn’t tell himself the truth—that he wanted to dream. That he wanted to be with her, whatever the cost in horror or humiliation.

He didn’t expect to be with her as a werewolf.

Werewolf lust and the frenetic power of werewolf coupling were surprisingly close to vampire bloodlust and the drive to possess a victim. Werewolves weren’t particularly creative in regards to sex, but Hal was impressed with his stamina, and hers, as well as the speed with which they developed renewed interest in each other following each act. The sheer instinctive thoughtlessness of it was liberating as well. He enjoyed it more than he should have, considering his disdain for the species.

It nearly made up for the mortifying nightmares that followed. Hal was less of a man in his own skin than he had been in a werewolf’s fur.

# #

Hal had to piss and there was no slop bucket. He hadn’t needed one for months—the limited ration of liquid he’d been given was quickly absorbed into his system. However, he’d had a substantial amount of blood yesterday and that made a difference. His hostess was proving to be a bit thoughtless in regards to his aftercare following a meal, so he stood facing the windows and issued his orders.

“Woman! Will you have me piss on the floor like an animal?”

“Woman!”

“Woman!

“Tessa!”

Tessa heard his voice and intended to ignore it, until he called her name. He’d yelled many things at her through the months, but never her name. She quickly grabbed a pail from the cleaning closet and hurried to his chamber.

“Put a cork in it, I’m coming!” she called as she unlocked the door.

He undid his trousers as she approached and she’d barely set the pail on the floor before the stream hit. She jumped back to keep from being splattered, opened her mouth to speak, snapped it shut, and left.

For three days.

It would have been longer, but the thought of the waiting slop bucket forced her to return. Age wouldn’t make the mess any sweeter. She was coming when he called and she was cleaning up his piss. Who exactly was the prisoner?

Tessa carried a towel and a quart jar of blood into the chamber. It was fresh human blood, still warm, thanks to a well-paid and suitably discreet donor. She set the blood within reach of Hal and dropped the towel over the slop bucket.

As she picked up the bucket and turned to leave she saw Hal standing stiffly at the bars, staring at the jar with a frown. His hands were clenched around the bars and he quivered with the intensity of the self-control it took to keep from reaching for the blood. He was thinking. He was wondering why now? Why more than his usual draught? What was the catch? She could see his inner argument as clearly as if he had spoken the questions aloud.

“I need you lucid,” she said flatly.

“Come back in an hour,” he whispered through clenched teeth. His fangs flashed as he parted his lips. He didn’t lift his eyes from the jar.

Tessa returned in an hour with a clean pail and the tea tray. The quart jar was sitting empty outside the cage. It was spotless but unbroken. Hal was sitting near the bars, sucking the last bits of blood from his shirttail; he’d learned it was the best tool with which to remove blood from a vessel. She started a fire in the brazier.

“When you dream while under my influence I join you in the dream,” she said as she put the kettle on.

She had to look away from him for a few seconds in order to set the kettle down, but when she turned back he was still staring wide-eyed at her. She watched as a deep blush drained away from his face. He opened his mouth to speak, appeared to choke, and closed his mouth. A moment later he tried to speak again. No sound came out. He looked nauseous. Finally he turned his back to her and slumped against the bars.

“How—how is that possible?” She barely heard his hoarse whisper.

“When you sleep, I sleep. Do you remember wanting desperately to sleep and not being able to? I was keeping you awake. And when you didn’t want to sleep but couldn’t keep your eyes open? I needed to sleep and took you with me.”

“Always?”

“Only after we connect. You know the difference.”

“Yes.”

Tessa made tea and set his cup and saucer on the floor next to him. He flinched away as she set it down.  She sat in her rocker and sipped her tea as she considered what to say next.

“You pull on me too,” she continued. “I will rest because you need to, or I will wake before I’m ready. I don’t understand completely how it works because I’ve never had a situation like this. It’s only been one dream, or maybe a few, and then sex and my lover’s death.”

Hal turned his head to listen to her but kept his back to her. He knew she somehow sent the dreams to him, but he thought they came from the demon part of her and weren’t connected to her personally. He’d assumed that they were private, the last bit of himself that she didn’t control. They were his last guilty pleasure, his only remaining secret shame. He couldn’t conceive that she had been there too. No woman could withstand what he’d put her through in his dreams; no human could imagine the degradation she’d put him through in his nightmares.

He followed the sound of her voice as she tried to explain, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care any longer. He had no pain left to give her.

“At first we were living your fantasies. You controlled the dreams and I served your purpose. I think that’s the way it’s supposed to be, the succubus entering her victim’s world, becoming the ultimate dream date. The perfect woman. But Hal, your perfect woman is a creature you can torture and slaughter. There is no softness in you, no room for a dream.”

“You knew what I was when you brought me here. What I am is _why_ you brought me here.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think, I couldn’t imagine, that you had no good dreams left in you. I meant to use your dreams to study your weaknesses, but first I had to get through your hatred and your rage.” She rocked and sipped for a moment. “I couldn’t take the violence—the pain, so I began to offer you alternatives. Gentle dreams. Happy dreams. You enjoyed them, but you left them to return to the others.”

“That’s when I realized that what you hate most of all is yourself. Your dreams become nightmares because you want them to. Your imagination provides you with horror beyond any I would know to give you.”

Hal had been mistaken. He had pain left for her to mine, once she’d dug deeply enough to find it. Once she’d discovered the writhing jewel he’d buried: the self-loathing he’d hidden for so long that he’d forgotten where to find it. That wasn’t accurate—he knew where it was and walked carefully around it, the monster at the center of his heart. The reflection he refused to see.

 He picked up his cold tea and drank it in quick gulps. No wonder she wanted him lucid. He had to be clear-headed to understand that the depths of degradation she’d forced him through were only as deep as he wanted them to be. He punished himself for being himself. Tessa was the cat-o-nine-tails, but his hand guided the whip.

“Leave. Please.”

“Of course.” She retrieved his empty cup and saucer, making no attempt to touch him even though he didn’t flinch from her this time. There was no need for her to touch him. She’d already given him enough torment in their brief conversation.

She left. Until the moon waned.

# #

Hal lay shivering and sweat-soaked under his rancid blanket when Tessa entered the chamber. He didn’t acknowledge her presence as she brought in fresh linens, clothes, and cleaning supplies. She set his drinking water near the bars as usual, but he didn’t seem to notice. She saw his nostrils twitch and knew that he smelled her blood. It was the only indication he gave. She made their tea, poured herself a cup, and waited.

“I would have you kill me,” he said quietly.

“I’d rather give you a haircut and a shave,” she replied in a neutral tone.

“I can do those things for myself.” He frowned. “I used to be able to.”

“The last thing you need in your hands is a razor blade.” She maintained her neutral tone as the best way to respond to his disheartened state.

“The last thing I need is your hands on me,” he argued wearily.

She didn’t respond.

Hal began asking the questions he’d refused to ask. No need to cling to false pride any longer. She knew the worst of him.

“Where does the blood come from?”

“It’s amazing what discreet advertisements in the right places can do,” Tessa said. “I pay for donations from individuals who believe they are selling blood to a quietly insane pseudo-vampire. Adding the term porphyria to my request makes it seem as if they are easing an illness. Money and an easy conscience.” She shrugged. “People are gullible. They’d rather not know the truth.”

Another silence.

“How many men have you brought here?” He stared at the ceiling as he spoke, sending his words upward and assuming they would reach her.

“Define ‘men’,” she replied.

“Humans?”

“None.”

“Vampires?”

“Five. Plus you. Six.”

“Werewolves?”

“Just the one.”

“Tell me about him.” Hal closed his eyes as if he were too tired to hold them open.

“I learned of his existence. I studied him to learn his habits. I slipped a potion into his drink when he went to the pub. I brought him here. When he started to struggle along the way, I knocked him on the head. My standard modus operandi. Humans don’t need the concussion, but supernaturals sometimes do.”

“He transformed in the cage and I allowed myself to be scratched. He spent the next month telling me what to expect. We transformed together and I learned that I had no interest in killing another werewolf. Just the opposite, in fact. It was a very interesting night.” She smiled to herself.

“You’ve had sex as a werewolf.” Hal didn’t ask the question, he simply acknowledged his understanding of what she’d implied. “When I dreamed as a werewolf, was I—him?”

“No. I can’t give you knowledge of someone else’s body; I can only share what I know to be true. I know what I experienced, but beyond that knowledge you created the experience from your own imaginings.”

“You’ve been in my head. Surely you were in his head as well.”

“We _had_ sex, we didn’t dream sex. I wasn’t in his head. Not as the wolf, anyway.”

“As a man?”

“Yes, of course.” Tessa spoke as if it was a given.

Hal wondered idly how many men she’d dreamt of, and with. “What happened to him?”

 “I killed him, just like the others. Well, it was his idea but I was curious. He hadn’t died as a werewolf, so maybe the wolf would protect him as a man.” She sighed. “It didn’t. He lasted longer than some. Saw me happy before his heart gave out. Doesn’t usually happen that way.”

Hal snorted. He couldn’t help himself. She didn’t seem at all upset at the death of her mentor, but was dejected by the loss of her own opportunity for sexual pleasure. She was just about as selfish and uncaring as a vampire. A thought occurred to him.

“I’m already dead,” he said as he turned his head to look at her for the first time since her entry. “You can’t stop a heart that doesn’t beat.”

“I know that. A succubus can’t kill a vampire through sex.”

“Did you test that theory as well?” He arched an eyebrow as he spoke, an unconscious gesture that signaled his increasing interest in her and decreasing interest in dying.

“Of course I did. Come on, Hal, you know me well enough not to have to ask,” she chided him gently. “You just want to hear me say it,” she added with a half-smile.

“I can’t believe you lowered yourself so far as to have sex with a vampire, just for the sake of learning how to torture me.” He sat up as he spoke, drawing on his self-control to hold himself together. He’d found something to tease her about. He couldn’t resist the chance to embarrass her.

“He wasn’t even a very good vampire, to be honest,” she admitted. “Weak and easy to catch. I don’t think he’d been at it for long.”

“And how was he as a man?” Hal smirked.

“Sadly lacking. A for effort, D for results. He tried, bless him. I gave him a week to impress me before the full moon.”

“You ate him? So to speak?” Another dig.

“I ate him. No so to speak about it. Plumped him up with a nice roast dinner beforehand. Only time he satisfied me.” She smirked back at her vampire. Two could play this game.

“You’ve never offered me a nice roast dinner. Does that mean you don’t intend to kill me?”

“It means that I expect you to be plenty appetizing without it,” she replied.

“I could do much better for you than your test subject,” Hal said with a touch of truth in his tone. He was going to move into dream territory, if she didn’t figure him out and avoid the subject.

She was quiet for a minute, and Hal thought she would deflect or make a joke. He was wrong.

“You already have,” she said softly. “Better and worse than I thought possible.”

She’d jumped ahead of him and landed right where he wanted to go. Where he was afraid to go. He knew what the dreams did to him, and now he was certain they did the same to her. He wondered if she enjoyed humiliating him in his nightmares. He had nothing to lose in asking.

“Do you enjoy making me suffer?” His voice was just as quiet as hers.

“I brought you here to make you suffer, remember? The thing is, I’m suffering too. That wasn’t part of my plan.”

Another silence.

“I would never dream of doing some of the things you have me do to you,” Tessa said. “I’ve neither the experience nor the nature to be so cruel. You’ve turned me into a more horrifying creature than I already was.”

“You started down that road when you chose to become a werewolf, just to make your revenge on me more thorough.”

She nodded. “I did, didn’t I? I set out happily down a dark and twisted road and twisted myself to accommodate my travel. I can’t blame you for this. I engaged you in these dreams, and I need to be the one to end them.”

“So you will kill me, then.”

She snorted. She couldn’t help herself. Her vampire’s tendency toward the dramatic was just too much at times.

“No, stupid. I’m just going to wear gloves or stay away from you,” she said with a chuckle. “I need a break from nightmare-land, Hal, but I’m not done with you.”

He laughed out loud when she got a pair of gloves from the pile of cleaning supplies and put them on. Marigolds! God has a truly twisted sense of humor! Even the devil wouldn’t throw marigolds in his face.

“I’ll take a cup of tea now,” was all he said.

Bathing and cleaning his cage and chamber were more difficult without her touch to lull him into complacency. Her heartbeat thundered through his head; the scent of her blood drove him into the bars in spite of his best efforts to control himself. Twice she left until the rages calmed and he called for her return. Neither of them mentioned the haircut and shave again; neither of them was willing to risk it.

For a week.

# #

She brought in a quart container of fresh blood. Not glass. Tessa didn’t want her vampire to slice open a vein on broken glass. She’d been careless the last time. She set it down and left without speaking. In an hour she returned with supplies for a haircut and shave.

Hal eyed her dubiously. “I thought you were joking.”

“Be thankful you can’t see yourself in a mirror,” she said. “I vaguely remember what you looked like when I brought you here, but you’re a gnarly mess now.”

“Why do you care? It’s true that I hate being a woolly caveman, but I assumed you’re keeping me this way out of spite.”

“I was,” she confessed, “but damn, man, I have to look at you. You’re pretty in my dreams, but I don’t get to dream with you anymore. It’s time to make you pretty for me again.”

“I’m not pretty. That term fits you better.”

“Ha! Let’s just say I hide my monstrosities in a pleasing package, and I’d like you to do the same.” As she spoke, Tessa brought the supplies for Hal to wash his hair.

“You don’t intend to turn me loose with scissors and a razor,” he said as she watched her, marigolds donned, set the towel, shampoo, and hot water in place. He took the empty basin and cup from her.

“I thought to tie your hands and feet to keep you from attacking me, then join you in the cage and do the job myself,” she said calmly as she watched him remove his shirt and begin to wash his hair.

“You expect me to go along with your plan? The last time you had a tied-up vampire in here, it didn’t end well for the vampire.”

“You’ll just have to trust me,” she said with irony lacing her words.

Hal thought as he washed his hair. Tessa could tie him up and leave him for the werewolf; the full moon was less than a week away. Perhaps too much hair on a meal gave the beast indigestion. Perhaps the scissors and razor were props to make him willing to accept the rope. Did the notion of death disturb him enough to make him protest her plan? No. Did the notion of being clean-shaven again please him enough to make him risk death for it? Yes.

They cleared away the mess and Hal held out his hands to be tied.

“Behind your back,” she said.

He turned around without protest. She tied his hands, after which he turned back around and sat down so she could tie his legs together at the ankles.

“Can you move away from the bars while I get things set up?”

He used his feet to push himself back from the bars as she opened the cage. Tessa hesitated in front of the opening; she felt as if she were trespassing somehow, or breaking a rule. The bars had protected them both. Even weakened and bound, Hal was dangerous. His fangs could injure or kill her and her blood could injure or kill him. She studied him with a thoughtful frown.

“You’ll just have to trust me,” he said with irony lacing his words.

Tessa traded the marigolds for thin latex gloves and swathed him in a clean sheet. She knelt behind him with a comb and scissors and began what appeared to be a fairly random process of combing and hacking away at his hair.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Not really. This stuff is as unruly as your dreams. I thought I’d chop off the worst of it and then see what’s left.”

He sighed. So, this was apparently another form of torture after all.

“I thought I’d cut off the worst of your beard too, then bring in hot water and a towel and soak your whiskers before shaving you.” She talked as frightening amounts of hair fell onto the sheet around him. “My dad—the man I thought was my dad—used to soak his whiskers with a hot wet washcloth before he shaved. I’d sit on the toilet lid and watch. We chatted about nothing. It was nice.”

“I never knew my father,” Hal said quietly, “or my mother. There were women around me, but none claimed me.”

“I had a good childhood, a normal childhood,” Tessa replied. “The succubus appeared when I hit puberty.” She grew still for a moment, her hands hovering over his head. She continued.

“Dad was my first victim. An innocent hug. A dream so vivid, so wrong, that I woke up and threw up at the same time. He came to my room… Broken. Driven. Unable to help himself. Something—something not me—welcomed him. When he died on top of me, in me, part of me laughed. Part of me died with him. My sister found me, helped me. We cleaned up things. Carried Dad back to their bedroom. Mom found his body when she came home from work. We waited for her screams to call us from our rooms.”

She stood up and looked thoughtfully at Hal’s hair. He could see no expression on her face. Of course not. He knew that face all too well. Hiding the pain. Denying the remorse. He wore it himself.

Tessa knelt again and began cutting his hair into a semblance of the shape she remembered. Hal could feel it getting shorter. It seemed to be achieving a kind of balanced weight. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too hideous when she was finished.

Finally Tessa decided to quit with the hair and attacked his beard. Her closeness was a continual challenge—he could smell roses and a bit of musk, and he could hear her heartbeat and the blood pulsing through her body. Even though she was careful not to touch him, Tessa still drew him to her.

Tessa noticed Hal’s increased focus on her movements as well as his tension and the trembling that signaled his struggle to control himself. She got up and went to fetch hot water, taking longer with the job than she needed.  She didn’t return to the cage until he nodded that he was ready.

She knelt next to him and gently placed the hot damp towel over the lower half of his face, and Hal tipped his head back to help her keep it in place. It lay against his cheeks and chin and draped over his neck. He felt the warmth soak into his neglected skin and couldn’t help a small sigh of pleasure. When the towel began to cool she dredged it back through the hot water and put it in place again, holding it with her gloved hands near his ears.

He heard the pulse in her wrists and realized how easy it would be to reach. A quick turn of his head, snatch at the towel to get it off his mouth—oh, no hands. Could he jerk his head enough to dislodge the towel? Could he bite through it? Could he wait for a better opportunity to kill himself with her blood? Yes.

Tessa removed the towel and shook the can of shave gel. Women’s, but unscented at least. And Hal could probably use the extra-emollient-rich formula for sensitive skin after so many months without shaving. How many months? Seven. Nearly eight. So few. It seemed much longer. It seemed endless.

One careful pass over his whiskers got most of them. Rinse, fresh hot water and towel, repeat. The second pass finished the job, but his skin was loose around his jaws. A reaction to having a beard, he said. It would tighten up within a few days. She needed to give him a minute, please. Tessa took the shaving supplies with her when she stepped away.

How many opportunities had he ignored? How many times had he felt the blade against his artery? How many moments had her wrists hovered near his mouth? He’d lost count. He never lost count of anything. It had been a point of pride with him for centuries. Until the cage. The succubus. The wolf. The blood. Tessa. Her name resonated through him like a heartbeat. He had to pull himself together before his jailer returned to the cage.

Tessa. Cursed before birth. Monster without choice. Loving sister. Murderous daughter. Tessa. Tessa.

The blood she’d given him wouldn’t keep him sane much longer.

# #

Evening was approaching. She was late. Less than an hour until the full moon, Hal was certain. He’d seen enough seasons come and go, been aware of the moon’s cycle, used it for his own purposes often enough to know when the full moon was due. She was late for tea. Perhaps she’d decided to transform somewhere else. Perhaps she wanted to hunt. No, she wouldn’t deny him the ‘pleasure’ of the werewolf’s company. Something had detained her.

The familiar worry wormed its way into his blood-starved consciousness. What if she doesn’t come? What if she’s finally tired of him-it-this and she just—doesn’t come. Ever. How long will he last? In all the months, Hal has never heard another human voice, never scented another human. Only Tessa. What if she wants to find out what a vampire looks like after a year of isolation? Two years? Ten years? What if she just—doesn’t come?

She didn’t come.


	3. New Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mention and brief discussion of rape, torture and murder.

Two months. Hal wasn’t certain how long, but it had been more than two months, based on the calendar he’d created to keep track of the days. He began the day after Tessa didn’t come for tea and transformation. Two small strips of blanket: one tied around the bar that became Day 1, the other moved one bar over every time Hal recognized a new day. He doubted that he noticed every day.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d have the strength to move the rag. Withdrawal without food or water was horrible. Withdrawal without food or water, after months of semi-starvation, was the worst thing in creation. He slept much of the time now and ranted very little; he seldom opened his mouth for fear of letting moisture escape in his breath. He was turning into a mummy, desiccated, shriveled. His blood was a thick, useless sludge. His hair stopped growing. His reflexes were too slow to catch the occasional rat that showed an interest. He barely managed to shoo it away.

There was a disturbance—noises—a voice—a smell—he didn’t care. Another hallucination. There had been so many. He no longer bothered with them.

Tessa was sick with worry. She’d been gone so long, and with no chance to prepare Hal for her disappearance. He was trapped with no way to escape or to kill himself. She feared what she would find in the cage. Could a vampire go mad?

She wasn’t healthy enough to deal with Hal yet, but she had no choice. Actually, she had a choice and she made it. He wouldn’t die from neglect. He would suffer, and had suffered, but there was a limit to what she could do to him and still call herself a semblance of human. Her plan to torment Hal Yorke had taught her more about her own limitations than it had about his.

She needed a good supply of blood, so she coerced the healthiest misogynistic asshole she could find into bringing her home from the hospital—it wasn’t difficult. Once she got him into the house, things moved along quickly. A quick cuddle, a brief nap, sex and a heart attack. Amazing what you can fit into 15 minutes when you put your mind to it.

Thank God she had a wheelbarrow because she was in no shape to drag the corpse to Hal’s cage. Thank God for extra bandages and gauze, because she felt her stitches tear as she lifted and pushed the weight of Hal’s meal on wheels. She hoped the bandages prevented any drips. She wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to clean them up by the time she was done.

Tessa thought she was making enough noise to wake the dead, but Hal didn’t even stir. What was left of Hal didn’t stir. She’d seen death camp photos with healthier-looking people. She flung open the cage door, rolled the fresh corpse into the cage, and dumped it next to Hal. Still no response. Good grief, did she need blood in a baby bottle?

The corpse was naked. Tessa still wore a shirt. No pocketknife. She grabbed the man’s wrist and bit down as hard as she could until she tasted blood, then held the dripping wrist over Hal’s face. He was turned on his side so the blood dripped onto his cheek and ran into the corner of his mouth. His tongue darted out.

Hal lunged so quickly she didn’t even see it, she just felt herself falling as he brushed her aside and landed on the bleeding corpse. He moved as if something in him drove him, a graceless mass of jangled parts that _something_ flung forward. She pulled herself to her feet and backed the wheelbarrow out of the cage, slammed and locked the cage door, and collapsed onto the floor. Checked her bandages. No leaks, no blood.

Eventually Tessa shoved the wheelbarrow out the door of the chamber. She dragged the dusty rocking chair over and shoved it out the door as well. The side table she feebly tossed on the pile. It would have to do. Evening was approaching. She locked the chamber and stumbled into a corner to wait. She didn’t look toward the cage—the noises were enough to turn her stomach. Hal was regaining his strength and using it to wring every drop of blood from his victim.

Transforming into a werewolf is incredibly painful. Transforming into a werewolf with multiple traumatic injuries and an unhealed surgical incision is physically crippling. Tessa spent the first few hours of the night curled up in the corner and panting with the pain from damaged organs that had torn themselves apart while trying to reform. The werewolf didn’t know what happened, she only knew that she hurt. Eventually her pain forced her to move, and she pulled herself along the chamber wall until she reached the moonbeam that shone through a window.

She sank to the floor again and waited for morning. When the pain rose in her she howled and whimpered. She thought she heard Hal talking to her, calling her name, but she didn’t try to reach him. She didn’t want to get too close to whatever was left of his victim. She didn’t want to be tempted. She didn’t want anything except for the pain to end.  By the time it did, she was too worn down to do anything but sleep.

As she slipped from werewolf to human, Tessa dreamed of Hal. A happy dream. A tender dream. A dream of compassion and concern, and of joy and freedom. She wanted desperately for it to be true.

Daylight shone through the chamber when Tessa finally stirred and sat up. She looked for Hal, winced, and looked away. He was a gory mess and there were bits of bone and shreds of organs scattered around him. But it was a mess of her creation, so she should accept responsibility. She looked back. He was no longer skeletal. His skin was flushed pink with someone else’s blood.

He was watching her with a concerned frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Getting better,” she replied as she carefully stood up. Her formerly unmarked abdomen was marred by scars. “Sorry to be gone so long. It wasn’t planned.”

His frown deepened as his eyes took in the evidence of injury and surgery. “I can see that,” was all he said. “Thank you for dinner, by the way. It was much appreciated.” He gave her a formal nod.

“You’re welcome. It appears that you are a messy eater. You’ll want to wash up?” Tessa was feeling more like her old self, finally. She put on her shirt and gathered the remnants of her bloody bandages, then moved cautiously toward the chamber door.

“In your own time. Actually, sometime today would be lovely.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as she opened the door.

Tessa pulled the side table and rocker back into the chamber and left. For an hour. Hal expected her to be gone longer.

She took a shower and dressed, found some stale cereal and canned milk for breakfast, followed it with canned peaches, and finally gave in and ate every kind of canned meat she could find in the cupboard. She had to wash her face and brush her teeth just to keep from smelling like a tuna processing plant. She hoped the mess in the cage wouldn't cause her to lose her breakfast—or lunch, according to the clock.

Tessa returned to the chamber armed with everything she could think of to clean up her vampire and his mess. She expected it to be a day-long job. She brought the tea tray.

“Where do you want to start?” she asked.

“Are you well?” Hal answered.

“The wolf pretty much healed me, but I’m still weak so we’ll have to take it easy. You?” She waited beyond his reach for a reply.

“I’m not full by any means, but I’m coherent and fairly stable, for now,” he said. “How did you get—the victim—in here?” Hal wasn't sure what to call the person he’d eaten the previous night. They hadn't been introduced.

“Wheelbarrow.”

“Ah. Perhaps you could bring it back? I can put the leftovers in.”

“We’ll use it as a dustbin as well, I think,” Tessa said as she fetched the wheelbarrow from outside.

They removed his bedding from the cage and she used the wheelbarrow to dump it outside. She swept the chamber while Hal washed and put on clean clothes. She mopped while he cleaned the cage, using the broom and dustpan to sweep up the small bits of bone. The mop bucket wouldn’t fit through the bars, but the mop would. Hal was able to use it for the cage floor. He made two passes before he was satisfied, then he washed himself again while she rested.  

She wore marigolds and was careful not to touch him as they worked. She brought fresh water to the cage without being asked. She offered to wash the part of his back between his shoulder blades where he couldn't quite reach. It hadn’t been a problem until now, but his limbs were stiff from disuse. She brought him a wide-toothed comb, which he used after washing his hair. She brewed tea.

Finally Tessa sat in her rocker with tea and biscuits. She poured them each a cup.

“Biscuit?” she asked.

Hal waited for her to rescind the offer. It must have been an oversight, as she’d never offered him food. For that matter, she’d never brought food into the chamber. She held his cup and saucer in her hand, waiting.

“Yes, thank you,” he said.

After tea, Hal set up his clean pallet. Tessa rocked and watched.

“You’ll need a slop bucket,” she said.

Hal shuddered but nodded in agreement. His body might not have absorbed everything he took in.

“It would be more convenient to have it in the cage, but I don’t want anything in there that could cause trouble when you start to withdraw from the blood.”

“I’d rather not withdraw from blood,” Hal said quietly.

“I’m not killing people for you. This was an emergency. It won’t happen again.”

“If I can reach a bucket through the bars it can still cause trouble. What are you afraid will happen? That I’ll throw it across the room? Make a bigger mess than we’ve dealt with today?”

“Good point,” Tessa said.

She began removing cleaning supplies from the chamber but left the bucket. She brought a length of rope back in with her and told Hal to stick his hands through the bars so she could tie him while she opened the cage door.

“That’s ridiculous. I’ll just go to the far corner—“

“No.” Tessa interrupted him decisively. “I need to do it this way. I’m not going to give you the choice, Hal. If you don’t try to escape, you’ll be sorry later. If you do, one or both of us will get hurt. It’s better if you don’t have to decide.”

He stuck his hands through the bars and she tied him securely before quickly opening the cage and setting the bucket inside. She untied his hands right away.

“Have you something to cover the bucket?” he asked.

“There’s no lid. I’ll get a towel.”

Finally the chamber and cage were clean and tidy again. They once again had cleaned the exterior of their perversities. Tessa picked up the tea tray to leave.

“Goodnight, Hal,” she said as she left.

He responded casually. He didn't beg her to stay or to promise to return the next day.

He also didn't strain his ears to hear the fading noises as she walked away. He didn't lie awake most of the night, counting the seconds and minutes and hours to push back the hunger and the fear that she wouldn't return. Of course he didn't.

And when he finally fell asleep, he didn’t dream of her. Not of her. Of them. Not as two separate people but as one unit, bound together by ties beyond any attachment the succubus could conjure. With a knowing and understanding that spoke of time spent and memories shared. Hal wondered when he woke, if he had dreamed of his own hopes or of hers. Perhaps he was simply trying to find a future he could accept.

# #

Tessa returned at mid-morning with a heavily-laden tea tray.

“I was overzealous with the omelet this morning,” she said casually, as if it meant nothing that she’d returned so soon and had brought food for them both. “Are you hungry? For food, I mean.”

Hal had sat up when she entered, but he remained on his pallet with his blanket bunched around him, staring at her. This was unprecedented behaviour. Months of psychological games and torment made him suspicious. What was her plan? How much would a meal cost him?

“We need to talk,” Tessa said.

Hal grimaced. “There’s not a man of any species who wants to hear those words from the lips of a woman,” he said.

“I’m going to eat breakfast while we talk. You can join me or not.” Tessa poured tea from her cozy-covered teapot. She looked at him for a sign that he wanted a cup as well. He nodded. She poured.

He came to the bars and accepted the tea. His hands trembled slightly but there were no other signs of stress.

“If you believe yourself to be in control, I’ll bring the tray over and you can serve yourself,” she said. She set the tray against the bars and sat down on the floor just beyond it. Hal joined her for breakfast.

The omelet was very good, as were the sausages. The toast was cold, but she’d brought in a jar of apple jam that was delicious. There was also orange juice. She’d been to the shops, wherever they were, and brought fresh food to the kitchen, wherever that was.

They made it most of the way through breakfast before she broached the subject.

“I don’t know what to do with you. If I release you, I've set a monster loose. If I keep you here, I’ll become a greater monster than I can allow myself to be.”

“And if you kill me?”

“I've made myself responsible for you, and that changes things somehow. Killing a creature who is dependent on me just seems wrong.”

“Everything about this is wrong. Surely you realize that?”

“At one time I believed that I was right to do what I did. I’ve changed my mind and now must extricate myself from the mess I’ve made,” Tessa replied. She sighed and bowed her head. “I should’ve listened to my sister. She gave up thoughts of revenge and her door came. She said I’d never have peace until I did the same.”

Her voice grew bitter as she continued. “She was an optimist at heart. I haven’t known peace since I killed my father. I never will. Perhaps we should both die and spare the world any more of our atrocities.”

Tessa felt Hal’s hand caress her cheek, and it was so welcome that she forgot the danger for an instant. Until she remembered, and scrambled backward beyond his reach. He pulled his hand back into the cage, surprised by her response and the touch of fear on her face.

“I just want a pleasant nap,” Hal said with what he hoped was a disarming smile.

Tessa pulled the tea tray to her and left. Until evening.

# #

She did the washing up before taking her nap. The dreams left her weak-kneed. Hal had no interest in torturing either one of them. If his plan was to convince her to keep him alive, it definitely worked.

# #

She ran a washbasin of hot water and brought him what he needed to wash himself, then started a fire in the brazier and put the kettle on. Hal wanted to ask Tessa how she knew he’d be a sticky mess, but after a moment he decided not to bother. He’d caught the scent of her arousal when she approached, a gentle tease under the soap and rose water. She’d enjoyed the dreams as well, then. He smiled to himself as he washed his groin. With any luck, he’d be out the cage before long.

Tessa set his tea down carefully and pushed it within his reach. She sat in her rocker and watched him reach for it just as carefully. His self-control was wearing thin already.

“Are you still lucid enough to listen? I want to tell you why I was gone so long,” she said.

“I’ll make my best effort to pay attention. I’m curious as to what kept you,” Hal replied.

“I went hunting for a snack for the wolf,” she began. “I went back to your nest—“

“I don’t have a nest. I have associates,” he snapped. Hal hated the term ‘nest.’ It was too domestic and limited to describe the professional and social relationships among vampires.

“Well, your _associates_ have continued without you and I went to find a straggler I could pick up without a lot of fuss,” she continued. “I found a likely candidate cleaning out a storage building on the outskirts of town, but I didn’t notice his partner until it was too late.”

“You can’t charm two men at once? How odd,” Hal murmured.

“I can charm a room full of men at once, but I can’t charm men who are gay. Especially men who are quite obstinately gay, which these two must have been.” Tessa seemed almost embarrassed to admit her weakness. “They attacked me and died in the process, but I was hurt badly.”

She absently put a hand on her throat. Hal had noticed a discoloured area and some light scars, but hadn't asked the cause. That explained her overreaction to his touch this morning. Tessa had finally learned to fear the vampire.

“I probably would have bled to death but for the wolf. The transformation heals most of what is broken while it breaks what is whole. The succubus is also more resilient than a human. Even so, I was still too weak from blood loss to move, so I just stayed there. A good Samaritan found me.”

“Vampire?”

“Human. Man. I think he intended to take me to hospital, but I didn't make it past his bed. I guess he wasn't such a good Samaritan after all,” she said ironically.

“He took advantage of your weakened condition.” Hal made it a statement. Of course the man did. Any man would.

“A woman with my attributes has no right to cry ‘rape,’ but yes, he did. And he died on top of me, damn him. Pinned me to the bed until his mate from work came looking for him.”

“How long?”

“Not sure. A couple of days, by the state of the corpse.” She shrugged. “His mate did a better job of being a good Samaritan. Called the authorities, and they got me to hospital—thankfully I had all women nurses and attendants, once I got there. Out of consideration for what had happened to me, I guess. Of course, everyone wears gloves for germ control, so there was little risk that I’d ‘infect’ anyone with my ‘disease’.”

“I left as soon as I was strong enough. Went looking for my car, but it was gone. I called the police and they said it had been towed as an abandoned vehicle. They gave me the address of the towing company so I could pick it up. I’d have to pay for the towing and storage, but I didn't think that would be a problem.”

Hal knew what happened next.

“We own the towing company. And most of the police force,” he said quietly. “You were sent into a trap.”

“Yes. I knew your lot were in with the police force, but I didn’t know about the towing company until I got there. They were waiting for me, an ambush. I didn’t have a chance to escape. They realized I was a werewolf pretty quickly and locked me up to wait for the full moon. For the dogfights. They didn’t catch on to the fact that I’m also a succubus, though. Not right away. Maybe they hadn't come across one before.”

“Not until after the rape?” Hal knew she’d be raped. Female werewolves are a rare catch, pretty ones even rarer. Every male vampire in the area would have wanted to have her, just to say he had. Hal had introduced the practice of werewolf rape decades ago but had kept his fees private. They varied, based on the wealth and resources of each participant. He also took bids for position in line, as it were. Clearly the first one in would have the most fun, if struggle was considered fun. Usually with a vampire the struggle got the blood stirring as much as the sex, and once the werewolf was worn down the struggle was minimal to non-existent.

Hal wondered who was running his organization now, and how much he charged for the privilege of raping Tessa. He discovered that he was unhappy at the thought of other men having her, especially when he could not. Her influence over him had grown even without her touch.

Tessa nodded. “What was supposed to be the first round of rapes became the only round once my dozen lovers began killing each other off in order to have exclusive rights to my body.” She was silent for a moment. “Did you come up with that idea? It was well-organized but the bloke running it seemed unsure of himself. I assumed it was one of your schemes. It’s certainly diabolical and profitable, and those are your hallmarks.”

Hal was offhand in tone and manner, as Tessa had been. “Yes, I've actually managed quite a few situations like that through the centuries. The day of the full moon is typically the most entertaining. We’d bet on who would mount the wolf closest to the change.”

“Of course you would,” she replied with a trace of bitterness. “No life is precious to a vampire except his own.”

“That isn’t always the case,” Hal replied. “I have valued others. Lovers in particular. Women who chose to love me in spite of what I am.”

“Really? Where are they now, I wonder?” Tessa’s voice revealed the lie in her words. She didn’t wonder. She assumed that they were dead.

“Human women die eventually, Tessa, as do werewolves.”

“Yes, but how many of your lovers died of old age, Hal?”

“None,” Hal said shortly. “There’s always a price to pay for loving a monster. As you know.”

“True. I’m hardly in a position to judge, am I?” Tessa sighed. “Even my sister lasted longer with you than any of my lovers have with me. And she had very complimentary things to say about your skills.”

Hal watched a light pink blush appear on Tessa’s face as she continued. “I have to admit, she wasn't exaggerating.”

“You've had more of me, in some ways, than any single lover I've known. That isn't necessarily a good thing, as some of our shared experiences have been brutal and horrifying,” Hal said. “But to continue your story. How did you receive those scars? Not during a dogfight?”

“No. There was no dogfight. I was put in the cage with a man and apparently we had glorious werewolf sex and then fell asleep. Not exactly the show the vampires were expecting. I was taken back to my cell the next morning and the vampires were left with a dilemma. What to do with me? “

“They decided to run the show again the next full moon, with discreet advertising to draw a crowd. They put two men in the cage with me, though. Winner takes all, and I was the all. Blood sport, murder, and sex. What could be more entertaining?”

“The men started fighting before the change, but things really got interesting afterward. The winner was pretty badly beaten up, but he still managed to take all. And, I have to admit, I was kind of turned on by it. By them fighting over me. The werewolf liked being chosen by the victor. Must go back to that survival of the fittest instinct that animals have.”

“I think they were planning on it becoming a regular part of their entertainment. Then the moon waned and I didn't bleed.”

“You were with child.”

“Not for long.” Her voice was grim.

“Vampires know when a woman is with child. We sense the additional life within. We hear the heartbeat long before humans and stethoscopes can.” Hal wasn’t sure why he bothered to explain what he assumed Tessa already knew, or had learned. Perhaps he was postponing the next bit of her story. The scars on her abdomen told him without words.

“They thought it out, Hal. You’d be proud of them. Tied me up securely, shielded themselves from my toxic blood. Cut out my womb less than an hour before moonrise, cut the ropes, and left me.  They thought the wolf would heal me.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No. It didn’t. They’d done too much damage, hacked into too many organs. I would have died, but that something in me that isn't human or werewolf gave me the strength to hold on.  The transformation helped, though, and I could move a little. I pretended to be weaker than I was and lured my guard into the cell. Once I touched him, he was happy to help me escape.”

“He took me to a house several miles away. I was able to kill him quickly—a nice bloody kiss did the trick. Had to bite my tongue pretty hard, but it was worth it. I got out of the house, drove a few miles before I blacked out and wrecked. Ended up back in hospital. A different hospital this time.”

“My injuries were infected and my damaged organs had only partially healed. It took some pretty big surgeries to clean out the infected tissue and put me back together. I was on a morphine drip for three weeks, until I got strong enough to yank the thing out of my arm. Then I found out how much time had passed and I started to get worried. I had to get out of there before the next full moon, and I had to get back to you.”

“And you brought me a meal as well. How ingenious of you. Have I properly thanked you?”

“The meal was a one-time gift. I needed a ride home anyway, and that guy is no great loss to the planet.” Tessa shrugged.

“Perhaps you could bring me other meals who are no great loss to the planet. We’d make quite a team, Tessa.” Hal gave her a look that carried rich promise and dark desire. She read it accurately.

“I’ve thought of that. For my own sake as well as this situation. If I have to kill to have pleasure, I should choose my victims carefully. The problem is that I’m not particularly attracted to those types.” She gave Hal a look that held its own dark desire and promise. “Not usually, at least.”

He smiled. “I’m not as particular about my meals as you are about your lovers.”

“That’s not the only problem. I’d have to put myself at risk to find the kind of men I’d be comfortable killing. I can’t do that, knowing you’d be trapped here if something happened to me. No, that isn't the answer.”

“Then what is? You can’t kill me. You can’t release me. You won’t feed me. You won’t let me starve.”

“I don’t know!”

“I do.” This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Hal needed all of his persuasive powers right now, in spite of the rising bloodlust and his own less-than-perfect appearance. He hoped it would be enough. “I’ve heard that having a succubus as a consort removes the bloodlust from a vampire, or at least makes it manageable. I believe we should see if that is true. If so, it will be the answer to this dilemma for both of us.”

“A partial and temporary solution at best, Hal. Not a whole or permanent one. You kill for pleasure, not just for the blood. What would keep you from killing if you were out of this cage? And I age. You will eventually lose interest in me or I will no longer be able to accept your advances. Then what? I will be even less willing to kill you by then. No, I don’t see that as a good idea.”

“But you've considered it?”

“Of course. How could I not?” Tessa sighed, got up, and stretched. “I need to go, Hal. I’m not at full strength yet. I need some sleep.”

“Wait!” Hal rose quickly to his feet and stretched a hand toward her. “Please. I’d like to dream with you again. No nightmares, you have my word.”

Tessa stared at his hand for a long time. Hal couldn’t tell if she was debating or was simply frozen in place by his request. Finally she took a step toward him, then another. She didn't reach for him; she just put herself close enough for him to reach her. Hal brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He trailed his fingers gently down her cheek and over her lips, then along her jaw and down her neck. He could tell that she was tense and forcing herself to hold still. She was challenging her new fear of the vampire, determined not to let it control her.

Hal drew his hand back into the cage. “Thank you,” he said.

She nodded, took the tea tray, and left.

Hal returned to his pallet and waited for the familiar drowsiness to claim him. His plan was in motion. He’d seduce her with gentle touches and sumptuous dreams, and when he’d earned his freedom he’d take from her everything he wanted, kill her, and leave this place.

# #

Tessa sat on her sofa staring into nothing. Tears slid down her face, unnoticed. Her body was relaxed. She’d been warmed and comforted by her lover’s caresses and kisses. She was rested and nearly whole again, thanks to time spent in his arms. She’d slept better than she thought possible. Loved, treasured, protected by her vampire. And it was all a dream. Nearly 30 hours’ worth of dream.

Why was he giving her these dreams?

She knew the answer, of course. He was trying to get her to let down her guard and trust him. Trying to convince her to give him his freedom. It wouldn’t work.

Knowing didn't make her wish for that life any less. A man who cherished her. Who would stay with her. A man she didn’t kill.

A sob tore through her, bringing her back into focus. She needed to think. The game was changing, and she’d given Hal control. She needed to figure out how to take it back. She needed to decide what she wanted from Hal Yorke, and what she was willing to do to get it, and how much risk she was willing to assume in order to make it happen. At one time the risk was part of the excitement, but her capture by the vampires had left her shaken and afraid.

Hal had recognized that fear and used it in the dreams. He’d offered her a safe place to be. Safety with him. What a cruel joke.

Tessa made one decision. She’d overcome her fear of the vampire, and she’d use Hal Yorke to do it.

She made a second decision. She’d take back control of the game. She’d do it by bringing Hal completely under her influence. Fuck the dreams. She wanted reality. Hal Yorke might think he knew a thing or two about the succubus, but he didn't know the half of it. She could wear that vampire to a frazzle and laugh. And maybe it was about time she did.

She’d need to get back to full strength first, and she’d need to plan for a way to lock herself in with him. Something to guarantee that he couldn't escape if anything unfortunate happened to her during their lovemaking, like a good stout chain and a combination padlock. No key. The combination stored in her memory so it would do him no good to harm her. A different kind of lock for the door to his chamber, too. Right now the deadbolt was easy to open from the inside. She’d find a combination deadbolt setup, industrial strength. Just in case the cage didn't hold him, or in case she wanted him out of the cage for extra fun.

Hal Yorke thought he could use sex to gain his freedom. Ha! He was about to learn that sex with her was the strongest prison on the planet.

# #

Tessa breezed in with a breakfast tray and an easy smile.

“Good morning, lover. Thanks for the dreams, they were amazing! I feel much better now.”

Hal was lounging on his pallet. Not much else to do, really. Calisthenics and lounging. He sat up. “Oh? I’m glad to hear it. Well-rested, then?”

“Well-rested, well-loved. You've certainly earned your breakfast.” Tessa set the breakfast tray against the bars of the cage and fetched Hal’s washing-up things.

“My breakfast, but not my freedom.” He said it as a statement, lightly.

“Well, it would be silly of me to let you go when keeping you here has so many obvious advantages,” Tessa said as she set his hot water within reach. The cloth, soap, and towel quickly followed as she kept talking. “You are far too impressive, and I’m enjoying myself far too much, to risk losing you.”

She caught his surprise and chagrin as she turned to put the kettle on. Hal hadn't considered the possibility that he could become a different kind of prisoner, no longer the focus of her hatred but the focus of her amorous interest. Tessa smiled to herself.

Since puberty had called it forth the succubus had been trapped within the limitations of her existence. She’d forced it into submission much as Hal had forced his bloodlust into submission during his dry periods. The tiny tastes of freedom she’d allowed it had done little to make it happy.

Tessa didn't know what the succubus was capable of because no lover had lived long enough or pleased her well enough to find out. The beast had never been satisfied. That may be part of the reason it raged inside her so fiercely that she had to isolate herself from the world in order to keep men safe. But with Hal, she might be able to satisfy the beast and calm the raging lust that burned just beneath the surface. After spending time with him, she might be able to visit the shops and see a film or a play without the constant itch to reach out and take someone, take a lover, take a life.

This creature that she hunted and hated and planned to destroy may be her greatest gift to herself imaginable. If she was careful. First things first. Breakfast and a chat. She let the tea brew while she removed Hal’s dirty water and replaced it with clean. As a courtesy.

“Do you need your bucket emptied?”

Hal replied nonchalantly, as if the notion of a vampire of his stature using a bucket in a corner of a cage didn't offend him, clear to his arrogant core. “Not yet. I've absorbed all that I've ingested up to this point. The vampire system is very efficient in that respect. I’m feeling close to normal size and strength, however, so if you intend to keep feeding me you can expect to clean up after me as well.”

“I intend to keep feeding you. In fact, I’ll be leaving after breakfast for a trip to the shops. Any requests?”

“Other than the obvious?” Hal seated himself for breakfast as he spoke. “The taste of food means little to a vampire. It is simply a means of sustenance or part of the formality of a quasi-human lifestyle. The food you bring is more than adequate.” He paused to accept a plate through the bars and smile at Tessa. “It is, in fact, quite delicious. I’m sure I will enjoy whatever you choose to provide.”

They ate in quiet companionship for a few minutes. It was a companionship couched in lies and strategy, but Hal was used to that sort of companionship and Tessa was more at ease with it than she expected. Perhaps the constant need to hide her own nature from the world had prepared her for Hal Yorke better than she realized.

“I have a different type of request, if you’re willing,” Hal said as he sipped his tea.

“I’m listening.”

“Will you be visiting regularly? Your visits ease the hunger for blood and allow me to remain clear-headed for a time.”

“You mean my touch, not just my presence. Yes, it is my intention to have regular contact with you, as long as you provide me with pleasant dreams.” Tessa knew Hal would understand the subtext. Unpleasant dreams would mean his abandonment for an unspecified time.

Hal nodded. His understanding was instant, as was his acceptance of her unspoken terms. “Pleasant dreams suit me as well. However, when I’m clear-headed I’m easily bored. I’d like to have books. Newspapers and magazines are acceptable for light reading, of course, but I do love a good book. You seem to enjoy reading as well. Have you any books I could borrow?”

“I do, as a matter of fact. I have an extensive library. It is safer than going to the lending library. Safer for the other readers, I mean. I even put together a catalog, just to keep me from buying books I already have. I forget sometimes.” Tessa smiled at herself and shrugged, as if to say she was only human. Forgetfulness was a human trait, after all. “I can get it after breakfast, if you like. You can look it over while I’m gone.”

“That would be lovely, thank you. And something to drink?”

“Water?”

“Yes, that would be fine. Do you not imbibe?”

“No, I don’t. I can’t allow myself any form of impairment, Hal. The succubus uses that to take control and I end up hunting for a lover. The last time I got good and drunk I woke up in a pile of bodies. It took a few of the ghosts _weeks_ to clear out. I thought I’d never get rid of them!”

Hal laughed at the picture Tessa had given him. He couldn’t help it. It sounded too much like one of his own adventures.

”I've had mornings like that myself,” he said. “The morning after is always unpleasant. And lingering ghosts! So impolite.”

“Best to avoid the whole thing,” Tessa said, “especially for me, as I still have a shred of a conscience. Are you finished? I’ll take your plate if you are.”

She reached for Hal’s empty plate, then hesitated.

“Have you time for a dream?” he asked. “If not, I’ll be more careful in how I hand you my things.”

“Do you need my touch to be clear-headed yet?”

“As frequently as possible, but then we’d do nothing except sleep,” he said with a lift of an eyebrow. “But tell me, before we touch. What do you see? The man in your dreams, is that how I appear to you? Or how you remember me? Because I seem to be changing, in the dreams.”

“You've seen better days, Hal, I’m not going to lie. I’ve kept you in poor condition and the last months have been hard on you, I can tell. My memory of you when I hunted and captured you is being replaced by the creature in front of me.”

“Ah, I feared as much. Soon you’ll lose interest in me, Tessa,” he said with what seemed to be genuine regret. “I’m not much to look at these days. Hairy and beardy, chewed-off nails and chapped lips. God knows what my breath is like, and my teeth! Well, I try to wipe them off as best I can with a cloth, as I did centuries ago. I have gotten used to the benefits of modern hygiene, however. When I’m clear-headed I miss being clean.”

Tessa looked at Hal carefully and thoughtfully. How to proceed?

“Let’s get down to brass tacks,” she said. “What do you need? If I’m to indulge myself in dreams with you I want you at your best. It benefits both of us to have you clean and comfortable, so what do you need to keep yourself in good form? Think about that while I clear away the breakfast things and do the washing up. I’ll return with my library catalog and pen and paper. We’ll make a list.”

“Thank you. That would be much appreciated. Now back to my question. To dream or not to dream?” He held out his plate with a smile.

She took it with a brief touch of their fingers. “A little dream. Then back to business.”

Tessa left and Hal settled on his pallet. A little dream. A short dream. Well. That sounded like a challenge, and Hal Yorke enjoyed a challenge.

It took Tessa nearly two hours to return with her library catalog and list for the shops. Hal was lying on his pallet. He’d already used the washing up water she left after breakfast. She locked the door to his chamber and leaned against it. Hal turned his head and met her eyes with his own amused gaze. He arched an eyebrow and she blushed bright red.

“I’m never taking you for granted again,” she said.

“Imagine what I could do if I was in top form. And not just dreaming.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Hal. That’s already part of the plan.”

Hal sat up quickly at those words. Tessa put her library catalog, which was a 3-ring binder with books listed by category, then author for fiction and subject for non-fiction, on the floor next to the cage. She sat in her rocker with the shopping list.

“Here’s my plan. I’m changing the lock on your chamber. Installing a heavy-duty combination lock for the deadbolt. Memorizing the combination so I’m the only one who can use it. That way you can get to the hot water and get yourself clean more easily. Not saying you’ll be out of the cage all the time. Just when I’m here and it is more convenient for me.”

“I can’t tell you how much the idea appeals to me. To have some measure of independence.”

“I’m not giving you free run of the place. The cage is your home. When I want to be near you I’ll join you in the cage.”

“You will lock yourself in with me?”

“Yes. I need to face my fear of the vampire. I know you know it’s there. I won’t let it stay there. So, yes. I’ll be locking myself in with you and using you to deal with my fear.”   

“You think I’m no longer a danger to you?”

“Ha! Not likely. You’re a danger to me, Hal, more so now than ever, because I have more reason to keep you alive than to kill you. But I’m going to bring a stout chain and a combination padlock. Lock us in and make sure you need me alive to get out.”

“I’ll have to be careful then. I’d hate to leave you senseless and unable to recall the combination. Well, not for an extended period, at any rate.”

Tessa smiled at the promise in Hal’s voice. He looked pretty rough, but that voice was smooth as silk. She was looking forward to getting Hal cleaned up and ready for sex.

“You know, Hal, you may be surprised. You give me those dreams, so in a sense I’m limited by your understanding of what a woman can and can’t do. I’ve actually learned a lot by dreaming with you. My own experience has been minimal. But I know, just surely as I know I’ll become a werewolf at the next full moon, that the succubus in me doesn’t have limitations. She will go as long as my body holds out, and my body is pretty damned strong.”

“What an intriguing idea. A lover without limitation. Typically only a female vampire can keep up with a male vampire. We have to restrain ourselves in order to prevent damage to our human lovers.” Hal had come to the bars of the cage and stood leaning against them. “But you do still have a human body, so there are limitations. It will be interesting to learn what they are.”

“My thought exactly. I’ve become more resilient since becoming a werewolf. I think the wolf offers healing properties throughout the month, not just during the full moon.”

“Yes, I believe that is true of the species in general. Which suggests that your injuries must have been truly horrendous to cause you so much suffering. Fools! They should have treated you better.”

“They certainly weren't taking proper care of their investment. Shoddy leadership, Hal. You would have done a much better job of it.”

“Investment! I would have made you my queen. You are a rare and precious creature, Tessa. Together we could rule the vampire world.”

“I don’t want to rule the world, I just want to have great sex with a man who lives all the way through it. A lot of great sex. So tell me what you need to get yourself in shape to receive my attentions.”

Hal had his list ready to go; he dictated quickly. Tessa left for the shops, leaving him to study her library catalog and think about what she’d said.

Tessa was smart. Redesigning the locks to require her memory was a good idea. It meant that she would have to remain in good health in order for Hal to continue being fed. She’d been gone three months, not the two he’d calculated, and in that time there had been no contact with humans. Nobody came to this place, apparently. No guests. No deliveries. Not even the post. Clearly she was his only link to the outside world.

He’d have to play the long game, then. Months or even years of watching for his chance at escape. Longevity is one of the benefits of being a vampire. He could afford to wait, and in the interim he’d have much pleasure. Pleasure and the removal of the bloodlust that had driven his every decision for centuries, even in his dry periods. More so in his dry periods.

Removal of the bloodlust. A respite. Another reason to wait and be careful, to take no risks. To play the long game and enjoy the seduction. The plan had changed, as good plans do when necessary, but the goal was the same. Her death. His freedom.

Hal recognized that he had been developing an emotional attachment to the succubus before her inadvertent abandonment of him. Three months of torture had severed that attachment, but it could return quickly enough under her influence. He mustn’t weaken in his resolve to put his freedom above all else.

Although if she proved interesting enough he might allow her to live. Not as his queen, that was a lie. As his pet. She’d make a lovely pet, if he could manage to tame her.

If only there was a way to keep her young. What would happen if she drank his blood? Would she turn? Hal wished Regis was here with his encyclopedic knowledge of vampire lore. Of course, even Regis might not have an answer to this one. A werewolf/succubus combination had never been seen that Hal could recall. Tessa ate vampires for sport during the full moon, so clearly vampire blood had no effect on her while she was in wolf form. Everybody knew werewolves couldn’t be turned. That was a historical fact.

But the succubus. An unknown. When the moon waned, Tessa was least wolfish and most human. Most succubus. Does vampire trump demon? Does Tessa have a soul for the devil to take? Would he have a chance to find out without putting his own life at risk? He wouldn’t dare attempt it unless she was dying anyway, and he didn’t want her to die just yet.

Too many questions. Plenty of time to think and plan. For now, a good book or several. He studied Tessa’s library catalog. It was an excellent way to study Tessa.

 

 


End file.
